غزل شمارهٔ 1958

Saki, now that you are drunk, fling yourself on me; to recollect tomorrow is credit—smite the neck of credit.

The year is our year, and the ascendant is the ascendant of Venus and the moon; O heart, this pleasure and joy has no bounds—be at rest.

Glow and gaiety have penetrated to the heart of stone and steel; if you do not believe, strike the stone upon the steel.

Look at the host, see the happiness upon his face; sit at this table and dip your bowl in the oil.

Summon up nimble reason and seat it beside happiness; jovially apply your bright soul to bright wine.

The branches are drunk and dancing in the wind of spring; jasmine, be drunk, and cypress, stroke the lily.

They have cut green garments at the shop of the unseen; tailor, rise up, sit at your shop, stick in your needle.