Come, cupbearer, for the tulip-like goblet is filled with wine

How long these pretensions and idle tales?

Let go of pride and vanity, for time has seen

The wrinkles in Caesar’s robe and the edge of Kay’s crown

Be wise, for the garden bird is intoxicated—behold!

Awake, for the sleep of non-existence is near—alas!

How gracefully you sway, O branch of new spring

May you not be disturbed by the turmoil of winter’s wind

Do not trust the love or ways of the heavens

Woe to the one who feels safe from its deceit

Tomorrow, the wine of Kawthar and houris await us

And today, too, the moon-faced cupbearer and a goblet of wine

The morning breeze reminds of the joys of youth

O young one, pour the elixir that drives sorrow away

Do not be dazzled by the glory and reign of the rose

For the wind’s steward lays each petal beneath its feet

Pour a mighty goblet in remembrance of Hatim Tai

So we may erase the dark record of misers

From that wine which gave beauty and grace to the Judas tree

It cast out the elegance of complexion from his visage to his nature

Set your throne in the garden, for like servants in devotion

The cypress stands tall and the reed girds its waist

Hafiz, your charming and enchanting tale has reached

The borders of Egypt and China, and the lands of Rome and Rey