The heart is the chamber of love of His: The eye is the mirror-holder of the form of His.
I, who incline not to the two worlds, My neck is beneath the burden of favor of His.
Thou and the Tuba tree; and we and the form of the Beloved; Every one’s thought is to the limit of ambition of His.
If I be soiled of skirt, what loss? For the whole world is the evidence of the innocence of His.
I, who am in that holy place, where the breeze Is the screen-holder of the fold of the dignity of His.
Passed the time of Majnun; and our turn it is: Every one, a space of five days is the term of His.
The realm of being a lover; and the corner of joy, All I have is from the favor of the fortune of His.
No fear, if me and my heart pass away The goal is in between the healthiness of His.
Regard not his external poverty. For Hafez’s Heart is the treasury of the love of His.
