How could I abandon the wine in the season of flowers

I boast of wisdom, when would I do such a thing

Where is the minstrel so I can spend all the yield of piety and knowledge

On the lute, harp, and the sound of the flute

My heart grew weary of the school's clamor

For a while, I will also serve the beloved and the wine

When was there loyalty in the world, bring the wine cup

So I may recount the tale of Jamshid and Kavus

I am not afraid of the black letter, for on the Day of Resurrection

With his grace and favor, I will end a hundred such letters

Where is the morning messenger to complain about the night of separation

With that blessed fortune, I will follow a happy pursuit

This borrowed life that the beloved entrusted to Hafez

One day I will see his face and surrender it to him