Who to the sultan's men this request will convey
'As a king by God's leave, send not this beggar away? '
I seek refuge in God from my foe sinister,
Hoping the falling star may this star minister
Should that black eyelash seek my blood to shed
Beware of its wile, darling, and let no ill will be fed
The world is set ablaze by the rays you issue
What benefit do you reap from cruelty but rue?
All night, this hope I cherish, that the morn breeze
May lovingly bring this friend, comfort and ease
My soul, there arose tumult among your lovers galore
All enchanted by your face and your cypress stature!
Give dawn-wake Hafiz a drop of wine to drink
So, from the morn prayer, your feeling of sin will sink
English translation © Ali Salami
Tehran, Iran
salami2046@gmail.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem