ترسم كه اشك در غم ما پرده در شود
وين راز سر به مهر به عالم سمر شود
I fear that my tears remove the cover of my love affair,
As soon the mystery becomes unveiled in the far and near,
Ston my turn into a transparent garnet,
A verity but, with great suffering and and lots of fret,
I shal go to the tavern, whimpering, to ask for justness,
There with a drink, I may be relieved from rancor and sadness,
I have sent arrows of prayers from many a corner,
Maybe one would hit the aim that I revere;
Oh my soul! recount the tale to my dear,
But whisper it low that zephyr could not hear,
From the reflections of your face, I have gained much favor,
The blessing of your foot steps turns dust into goldenware;
I'm amazed with the vyinginsolence of my rival,
May a pauper never become a man who gains approval,
There are points besides beauty that makes one:
To the taste of men of insight, a person renown,
The arrogance that fortifies the palace of coalescence,
Would remove many a head at its threshold, attemping intrance;
Hafez! the fragrance of the tips of her hair is in your hand
Be reticent, otherwise, zephyr is bound to find.