From the beloved's abode comes the breeze of the Nowruz wind

If you seek help from this breeze, it will ignite the lamp of your heart

If, like the flower, you possess anything, spend it in joy for God's sake

For Qarun was led astray by his obsession with hoarding gold

The nightingale is so drunk from the ruby wine of the rose's cup

That it sang a triumphant song to the turquoise sky

Go to the desert to shake off the dust of sorrow from your lap

Come to the garden to learn from the nightingale the art of singing ghazals

O heart, since eternal life is not possible in this turquoise pavilion

Seize the opportunity of joy in triumph and good fortune

The way to fulfill others' desires is to renounce your own

The crown of lordship is earned by stitching together this renunciation

I speak in veiled words; emerge like a rose from the bud

For the rule of the Lord of Nowruz lasts no more than five days

I do not know why the dove laments by the stream

Perhaps it too, like me, bears a sorrow day and night

I have pure wine, clear as life itself, yet the Sufi criticizes it

O God, may no wise man ever face a bad fate

Your sweet beloved has departed; now sit alone, O candle

For such is the decree of the heavens, whether you accept it or burn with sorrow

Through arrogance, one cannot be deprived of the means of joy

Come, cupbearer, for fortune reaches the ignorant with greater ease

Drink wine in Asaf's gathering during the glorious Nowruz

For the drop from your cup grants the world the spirit of Nowruz

It is not only Hafiz who prays for Turan Shah, the master

Through Asaf's praise, the world seeks a celebration and a Nowruz

His grace is the altar of heart and vision for the pious

His forehead is a day of victory and triumph for early risers