Classic Poem

(When) the rose is in the bosom,
wine in the hand,
And the beloved to my desire, —
on such a day, the world's Sultan is my slave.

Say, into this assembly bring ye no candle for to-night.
In our assembly the moon of the Friend's face is full.

In our order (of profligates)
the wine-cup is lawful;
But O Cypress, rose of body!
without thy face (presence), unlawful.

In our assembly (of lovers),
mix not its (perfume);
For our soul every moment receiveth perfume
from the fragrance of the tip of thy tress.

My ear is all (intent) on the voice of the reed
and the melody of the harp (the instrument of the Murshid);
My eye is all (intent) on thy ruby lip,
and on the circulation of the cup
(The manifestations of glories of God in the night season).

Say ye naught of the sweetness of candy and sugar
(the delights of the world);
For my desire is for thy sweet lip
(the sweet stream of Divine grace,
the source of endless delight).

From the time when the treasure of grief
for thee was dweller in my ruined heart,
The corner of the tavern is ever my abode.

Of shame why speakest thou?
For from shame is my name (renown);
Of name (renown) why askest thou?
For from name (renown) is my shame.

Wine-drinker, distraught of head,
profligate, and glance-player, I am:
In this city, who is that one
who is not like this?

To the Muhtasib, utter not my crime;
for he also
Is ever like me
in desire of the drinkers of wine.

Hafiz! sit not a moment without wine
and the beloved.
'Tis the season of the rose, and of the jessamine,
and of the 'Id of (Siyam)!