When my Beloved the wine-cup in hand taketh, The market of idols, disaster taketh.
Every one, who beheld His eye said: “Where a Mohtaseb, who the intoxicated taketh?”
Like a fish, I have fallen into the sea, So that, me, by the hook, the Beloved taketh.
In lamentation, at His feet, I have fallen In the hope that me, by the hand, the Beloved taketh.
Happy the heart of that one who, like Hafez, A cup of the wine of Alast, taketh.
