O gentle breeze, you carry the scent of the beloved,

From that musk-laden breath you possess.

Beware! Do not be presumptuous,

What business do you have with her tresses?

O flower! Where are you compared to her beautiful face?

She is musk, and you carry thorns.

O narcissus! Where are you compared to her intoxicated eyes?

She is joyful, and you are hungover.

O basil! Where are you compared to her verdant down?

She is fresh, and you are dusty.

O cypress! With your tall stature,

What standing do you have in the garden (compared to her)?

O reason! With the presence of her love,

What choice do you have in hand?

One day you will reach union, Hafez,

If you have the patience to wait!