I kiss her lips and drink wine

I have found the way to the water of life

I cannot reveal her secret to anyone

Nor can I see anyone with her

She kisses the cup and drinks blood

She sees her face and her disposition blossoms like a rose

Give me the wine cup and do not mention Jamshid

Who knows who Jamshid was and when he lived

Play the harp behind the veil, O moon-like minstrel

Pluck its strings so I may roar from it

The flower brought its seat from seclusion to the garden

Roll up the carpet of piety like a bud

Do not leave the drunkard longing for her eyes

In memory of her ruby lips, O cupbearer, give wine

The soul does not seek separation from that form

For the blood of her cup flows in its veins and sinews

Hold your tongue for a while, O Hafez

Hear the story of the speechless from the reed