Soufi, come see; For the glass of the cup is bright.
On the ruby sheen Of the wine come feast thy sight

None maketh prize Of the Anca; nay, gather the net;
For here is but wind To be gotten of any wight.

Ease present ensue, For, when Fortune's cistern ran dry,
E'en Adam from out The Garden of Peace took flight.

At the banquet of Life Drain one or two cups and go:
Nay, look not to Time And Fate for enduring delight.

Youth's gone and no rose From life hast thou culled, o heart!
For name and repute Come strive, now thy head is white.

The winebibber ask Of the secret behind the veil;
For hid is this case From the haughty pietist's sight.

Many are our dues For service done at thy door.
'Fore heav'n, great sir, Have ruth on thy servant's plight!

I severed fore'er My hope from salvation what time
This heart in the hand Of thy love placed the reins of my spright.

A scholar o' the cup Is Hafiz; O East wind, go,
To the Elder of Jam His service convey forthright!