Ghazal 063 from Divan of Hafez

No one has ever seen your face, yet you have a thousand rivals;
You're still in bud, yet a hundred nightingales sing your praises.

If I come to your street, it's not so strange;
For like me, there are thousands of strangers in that land.

In love, a monastery and a tavern are no different;
Wherever there is love, there is a glimpse of the beloved.

Where they make a show of monastic work,
There's the monk's bell and the name of the cross.

Has any lover ever called out without their beloved noticing?
O master, it's not a sickness; if it were, there would be a physician.

Hafez's cry—all this wailing—is not in vain;
There is a strange tale and a wondrous story here.