With this beautiful design that you draw on your rose-like cheek,

You draw a line on the page of the rose and the rose garden.

The tear, a recluse of my heart's sanctuary,

You drag from beyond seven veils to the marketplace.

The lazy-faced (lover), like the morning breeze, with the scent of your tresses,

You constantly draw into work in the fetters of a chain.

Every moment, remembering that wine-colored lip and intoxicated eye,

You draw me from my solitude to the house of hangover.

You said, 'Your head will be bound to our stirrup,'

It is easy if you bear the burden of this load.

What remedy can I devise for my heart with your eye and eyebrow?

Alas, from this bow that you draw upon my sick (heart).

Come back, for the evil eye is warded off from your face,

O fresh rose, who draws your skirt away from this thorn.

Hafez, what else do you seek from the pleasures of the world?

You drink wine and caress the beloved's tresses.