Show thy face and to thy lovers, “Leave of living,” say, “take!”
“Fire of moth, before the candle,” Bid, “the soul for prey take.”

Note our thirsting lip and water Of thy grace deny not;
Hither come and up thy victim's Head from off the clay take.

Leave the dervish not! If silver His nor gold, for silver
Hold his tears, for gold his visage, Yellow with dismay, take.

Tune the harp and play; if play-wood Lack, my heart for burn-wood
Take, my love for fire and bosom For the censing-tray take.

Doff the cowl and join the dancers' Ring or else to cloister
Go and on thy back the patchcoat; one or t'other way take.

Wool from head draw off and vinejuice Sheer draw in; spend silver
And for gold to heart a goodly Silver-bosomed may take.

So the Friend to me be friendly, Let both worlds be hostile;
So Fate back me, all earth's surface Let the foes' array take.

Turn not yet to go, Beloved; Bide with us a moment;
Joyance by the stream ensuing, Come, the goblet gay take.

Take thee gone from me and yellow, For heart's fire, my visage,
Dry my lip and wet my bosom With my tears that day take.

Hafiz, make the banquet ready And unto the preacher,
“View our feast and of the pulpit Leave for ever,” say, “take.”