Behold the new moon of Muherrem! Quick, call for the goblet of wine.
'Tis the month of assurance and safety, The first of the year benign.

Anent this base world and its fortunes, Go, let not the beggar strive:
The ball of success to the Sultan, O light of mine eyes, resign!

Behoveth the time of enjoyment To cherish; for swift of flight
It is, like the Day of the Handsel And Night of Appointment Divine.

Bring wine; for his day (and his only) In pleasance and good will pass
Who maketh the Cup of the Morning The lamp of the day in his eyne.

What fitting devotion can ever From me fuddle-headed proceed,
Who know not the Cry of the Even From " Cleaver of Morn, " in fine?

Of thine affair, heart, thou art heedless; And since thou hast lost the key,
I fear me that none, at thy calling, Will open the door of Love's shrine.

A night to day waken, like Hafiz, In hope of attainment; belike
The rose of thy fortune shall blossom, By th' Opener's favour, and shine.

'Tis Shah Shejaa's time and the season Of wisdom and equity;
Be easance of heart and spirit, Both morning and evening, thine!