Like a flower, with every breath of your scent, I tear my clothes from neck to hem.

I tear it from the collar to the hem, such is my devotion.

Your body, like a flower seen in the garden,

As if a drunken one tore their clothes from their body.

From the grip of your sorrow, I can lose my life,

But you easily took my heart from me.

At the words of the enemies, you turned away from the friend,

No one, however, turns from a friend to an enemy.

Your body in its robe is like wine in a glass,

And your heart, like iron in a chest of silver.

O candle, shed tears from your bloodshot eyes,

For the fire of your heart has made clear to all.

Do not let a soul-drenching sigh escape my chest,

For it will rise like smoke through the window.

Do not break my heart, nor cast it to the ground,

For it finds its refuge in the locks of your hair.

When my heart is bound in your tresses, Hafez,

Do not throw it to the ground in this way.