Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Come so that we can scatter flowers
and fill the glass to brim with wine,
Split heaven's ceiling with our powers
and try a wholly new design.
When armies march to spill the blood
of lovers' hearts with Sorrow's pike
The serving boy and I destroy
their camp in one drunk counterstrike.
Here, put rosewater in the wine
and sugar in the censer there
To sweeten up the scent we sense
upon the incense-bearing air.
A fine-tuned lute is in your hand
so play a fine and tuneful song.
We'll stamp our feet, carouse in dance,
clap to the beat and sing along.
O dawn wind, bear my being's dust
unto that threshold great and high.
Perhaps I'll glimpse His majesty
and see His beauty, eye to eye.
One boasts of his great intellect
Another of the spells he binds.
Put it before the Judge. Let Him
settle the question and our minds.
If you want Eden's Garden, come
and join me in the drunkards' bar.
I'll tip you from a cask of wine
into the waters of Kawsar.
Hafiz, the arts of verse and song
are out of fashion in Shiraz.
Go, seek a more receptive realm,
a court more loving in its laws.
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here we are