My head is happy and I say loudly

That I seek the breeze of life from the cup

The frown of asceticism does not sit on the face of intoxication

I am a happy dervish, carrying the cloak of pain

I became a legend in wandering and the eyebrow of the beloved

He drew his polo mallet in the curve of his own, as I say

If the elder of the Magians does not open the door to his face

Which door should I knock on, where should I seek a solution

Do not blame me in this meadow for my wildness

For I go as I have been raised

You see the monastery and the tavern in between

God is witness that wherever he is, I am with him

The dust of the path of the seeker is the alchemy of good fortune

I am the servant of the kingdom of that amber-scented dust

From the joy of the narcissus, I am intoxicated and tall

Like a tulip, I have fallen with the cup on my lips

Bring wine, for according to Hafez's decree, from a pure heart

We will sell the dust of deceit with the blessing of the cup