If an army, the shedder of lovers’ blood, raise sorrow
The Saki and I may join and its foundation pull thorough.
The rose water we pour into the goblet of ruddy wine:
Into the censer of the wind, the sugar and perfume, we cast in twine.
Minstrel! In thy hand resteth a merry instrument, a sweet melody play:
So we may sing a love-song, and dance to the merry note sans delay.
O breeze! To the abode of the Beloved, the soul of ours take;
That the Monarch of the lovely mayest deign our glance’s sake
Of reason, one boasteth; another idle talk doth weave:
Come and to the just Umpire these disputes leave.
Come with us to the tavern if the Garden of Eden thou pine for;
So thee, we may cast at once into the pool of abundance galore.
In Shiraz, the verse, and eloquence, they do not know:
HAFIZ! Come so to another Land, we may go.
(Translated by Ismail Salami)