I am your admirer, O dear, and I know that you know,

That you both see the unseen and read the unwritten.

What can the blamer understand between lover and beloved?

A blind eye does not see especially hidden secrets.

Scatter your tresses and bring the Sufi to foot-playing and dancing,

For from every patch of his cloak, you scatter thousands of idols.

The opening of the work of the longing ones is in that beloved eyebrow,

For God's sake, sit for a breath and untie the knot from your forehead.

The angel in prostration to Adam intended to kiss your ground,

For in your beauty, he saw a grace beyond human limits.

The illuminator of our eyes is the breeze of the beloved's tresses,

May this gathering, O Lord, not have sorrow from the wind of distraction.

Alas for the nocturnal pleasure that passed in the sleep of dawn,

You do not know the value of time, O heart, except when you are left behind.

Being weary of companions is not the way of wisdom,

Endure the difficulty of the journey in remembrance of the time of ease.

The thought of the circle of his tresses deceives you, Hafez,

Be careful not to move the ring of impossible fortune.