The patient bolbol sang again from the young cypress branch:
May the evil eye remain far from the rose’s face!
Give thanks, O rose, that you are the emperor of grace;
Don’t disappoint and deceive the heart-lost and crazed singer!
I do not complain on the grounds of your absence:
If not for separation, where the joy of presence?
If others have pleasure and mirth, joy and fun,
Our longing for beauty increases our rejoicing!
If the ascetic is hopeful of virgins in mansions above,
The wine house is our palace- and the friend our reward!
Drink wine- not grief, to the harp’s sound and if anyone
Tells you to not drink wine, say “he is all merciful”!
Hafez, why do you complain of separation’s sorrow?
In separation is union, and in black darkness light!
notes: bolbol= nightingale