drunk and curls confused, sweaty and laughing
shirt torn, singing and glass in hand-
with brawling eye and regretful lip
he came to my bed at night and sat.
head lowered to my ear he said in sorrow,
ancient lover of mine- do you sleep?
a lover to whom such a cup is given at dawn,
betrays love if he will not worship wine.
get lost ascetic! and don’t fault those who drink it all-
this gift only were we served since time began!
whether the wine of heaven or the drink of drunks,
what he poured into our cups we drank.
how often the wine cup’s laugh and the lover’s curl
have smashed the regret of hafez’s repentance!