In quest of the garden of roses At dawn-tide in hope I went
My brain, like the lovelorn bulbul, To solace somedele with the scent;

And there in the midst of the greensward Mine eyes on a red rose lit,
That shone as a lamp in the darkness, Such light to the meads she lent.

So proudly in youth and beauty She queened it, that all repose
From the bird of the thousand voices She ravished and heart's content.

The eyes of the wild narcissus Ran over with wistful tears;
And hundreds of scars of passion The heart of the tulip rent.

The lily at her, in chiding, The tongue stretched out, like a sword;
Th'anemone, blab-like, opened Her mouth in astoniment.

Anon in her hand the flagon, Like lovers of wine; anon,
Like skinkers that fill for topers, The cup on her palm she hent.

Easance, mirth, youth, o Hafiz, Enjoy, while they last, like the rose.
The messenger only bound is To carry the message sent.