Now that the meadow, after the flowers, has become like paradise,

O cupbearer, request rose-colored wine on the edge of the boat (or lip).

The rust of your sorrow is completely removed from your heart by blood-colored wine,

Listen, for thus spoke to me a pure-natured (one).

If your censor throws a stone at the wine jug,

You also break the jug on his head with a brick.

Forgiveness is readily available for one who here (in this world)

Has a beloved like a houri and a dwelling like paradise.

What difference does my ignorance and your knowledge make to the heavens?

Where there is no sight, what is good and what is bad?

On the threshold of the master's door, which is a mansion of glory,

If there is no golden pillow, we will make do with a brick.

A Christian child was saying last night that Hafez

It is a pity that he constantly yearns for a church.