Last night, I went to the tavern door, drowsy

My cloak was tattered, and my prayer mat was stained with wine

The wine-seller came, lamenting

He said, 'Wake up, O drowsy traveler'

Wash yourself and then stride to the tavern

So that this ruined monastery does not become polluted by you

How long will you yearn for the sweet lips of boys?

The essence of your soul is stained with molten ruby

Spend your old age in purity and do not

Let the garment of gray hair be stained like the honor of youth

Become pure and clear, and emerge from the well of nature

For polluted water will not give clarity

I said, 'O soul of the world, the book of flowers has no fault'

For the season of spring becomes stained with pure wine

The companions of the path of love in this deep sea

Were drowned but did not become polluted by the water

Hafez said, 'Do not sell riddles and points to friends'

Alas, this grace is stained with various reproaches'