All the world is not worth a single moment of pain;
Go sell our cloak for wine- we have no greater gain.
In the wine-seller’s alley, they won’t take it for a glass;
Great, a pious prayer rug that’s not even worth a glass!
My rival chided me, saying “don’t show your face at this door.”
What happened- that our head is not worth the dust at his door?
The glory of the Sultan’s crown conceals the fear of death;
It is a most fetching hat, but not worth losing one’s breath!
The peril of seafaring seemed so promising at first;
I blundered: this storm was not worth the pearls in my fist.
You had best hide your face from your longing lovers:
The joy of conquest is not worth an army of followers.
Like Hafez, strive in contentment and pass by this world;
The least binding to such trash is not worth a pile of gold!
Notes: cloak= habit of the professional Sufi. Evidently,
the rug also serves as a cloak or, perhaps more
likely, the self conscious Sufi wears his cloak as if it were
a prayer rug.