Friends! repentance of veiledness, the daughter of the vine made: To the Mohtaseb she went; and by permission the work made.
From out of the veil to the assembly she came. Make ye pure of sweat of her, So that to the companions, ye may speak saying: “Wherefore farness she made?”
O heart! give the glad tidings that, again, love’s minstrel Expressed the intoxicated path, and the remedy of the intoxicated made.
Not with seven waters, nay not with a hundred fires, goeth its color, Which, upon the Sufi’s dress, the wine of the grape made.
From the clay of my nature and the breeze of the beloved, the blossom blossomed: From the leaf of the beautiful, red, odoriferous rose, joy, the night singing bird made.
Hafez! From the hand surrender not humbleness. For the reason that the envious one, In the desire of pride, reputation, and wealth, and heart, and faith made.
