In the hidden chamber of pleasure, I have a delightful idol

From her hair and face, I have a horseshoe in the fire

I am a lover, a rogue, and a loud wine drinker

All these positions I have from that fairy-like beauty

If you leave me so disheveled and homeless

With my morning sigh, I will dishevel your hair

If the friend’s blue line opens up such a face

I will have my yellow face marked with blood tears

If you wish to step into the abode of the rogues

I have sweet poetic stories and pure wine

Bring the arrow of a glance and the rope of hair, for I

Have battles with my wounded and afflicted heart

O Hafez, since the sorrow and joy of the world are transient

It is better that I keep my own heart happy