Virtue, piety, observance, Seek from drunken me not. Nay,
For to winebibbing predestined Was I on Creation's Day.

I, that moment when ablution In the Fount of Love I made,
At one blow the funeral service Over all things else did say.

Give me wine, that I may give thee Knowledge of Fate's mystery,
Of whose face I am enamoured, With whose scent I'm drunken aye.

O wine-worshipper, despair not Of the door of clemency!
For the mountain's loins are weaker. Than the emmet's in Love's way.

Save yon languishing narcissus, (Far therefrom the Evil Eye!),
Underneath this dome of turquoise, None abideth blithe and gay.

Be my spirit thy mouth's ransom! In the garden of the sight,
Nothing fairer than this rosebud Did the World-maker array.

By the love of thee is Hafiz Solomon become; to wit,
He in hand, of thine enjoyment, Nought but wind hath, wellaway!