My fair, the moon of beauty takes Its light from that bright face of thine
And loveliness its glory on That dimpling chin doth base of thine.

I wonder when this wish of mine Shall be vouchsafed me, that my heart
May in composedness with yon Disordered tress enlace of thine!

Of its intent to look on thee, My life unto the lip is come.
Say, shall it issue forth or turn Back to its room by grace of thine?

Guard well thy skirt from dust and blood, Whenas thou passest by our way,
For many of thy victims lie Slain in that passage-place of thine.

Warn her that layeth waste my heart; Yea, bid the charmer pity have
Friend, have a care; for, sooth to say, This case of mine is case of thine.

Since continence against thine eyes Availeth nought, of soberness
'Twere better not to boast before Those tipsy castaways of thine.

Belike, our fortune slumber-steeped Shall yet to wakefulness be stirred,
Since water on its sleep-stained eye Cast that resplendent face of thine.

Send us a handful from thy cheek Of roses, by the East wind's hand,
So from that garden-earth some whit Of fragrance we may trace of thine.

Thine be long life and wish achieved, O skinker of Jem's banquet-hall,
Albeit never was my cup With wine fulfilled by grace of thine!

For us, o East wind, say to him Who dwelleth in the town of Yezd,
“The heads of the ungrateful be As balls beneath that mace of thine!”

“Though distant in the flesh we be, Yet is our thought from thee unfar;
“Slaves of Yezd's King, indeed, we are And speakers of the praise of thine.

“O high-starred prince, o king of kings, Grant me this boon, for heaven's sake,
“That I may kiss, as 'twere the sphere, The pavement of that dais of thine!”

This Hafiz prayeth, (Hear and say “Amen!”) to wit, “Our daily bread
“Be still that sugar-shedding lip And life-giving embrace of thine!”