As much as I said, sorrow with physicians

Did not cure the poor strangers

That flower that is in the hand of the wind every moment

Say, may the wind be ashamed of the narcissus

O Lord, give me refuge so that I may see again

The eyes of the lovers on the face of the beloved

The value of love is not on its own

O Lord, may the desire of the rivals not be fulfilled

O benefactor, finally at the table of your generosity

How long will we be among the deprived

Hafez, do not become the lover of the world

If you had listened to the advice of the wise