In the heart's fire my breast for love Of yonder fair consumeth;
Such fire is in this room the house All everywhere consumeth.

My body, for its severance From yonder charmer, melteth;
My soul, at that her cheek's sun-heat, For love-despair consumeth.

Whoever on the ringlet-chains Hath looked of Peri-faces,
His stricken heart for me, distraught With love and care, consumeth.

See my heart's burning! At the fire Of these my tears, for pity
And love of me, the candle's heart, Moth-like, o rare! consumeth.

Unstrange it is, indeed, that friends For me should heart-a-fire be;
For, since I'm grown distraught, The heart in strangers there consumeth.

My gaberdine of piety The tavern-flood hath taken;
My house of understanding, eke, The cellar's flare consumeth.

My heart is broken, like the flask, Because I've made renouncement;
My liver, without wine and inn, Must-like, fore'er consumeth.

The past forget thou and return; For see, mine eye the patchcoat
Hath doffed and in thankoffering For granted prayer, consumeth.

Hafiz, leave idle talk and drink Awhile; for lo! we sleep not
Anights, what while the candle all In empty air consumeth.