Renouncement, o friend, of seclusion The maid of the vine hath made
Renouncement, o friend, of seclusion The maid of the vine hath made;
With the Mohtesib's leave, her traffic She lawful, in fine, hath made.
From curtain to banquet she cometh. Come, wipe ye her sweat off, that she
May tell us why she with this absence The comrades to pine hath made.
Behoveth with union's fetters To prison the tipsy fair,
Who all this long show of estrangement And coyness malign hath made.
The gift for glad news give! Love's minstrel Once more, heart, the wine-bibbers' lilt
Hath sounded and eke for cropsickness The remedy, — wine, — hath made.
No wonder the rose of my nature Bloomed out at her waft: the bird
Of night o'er the damask rose-leaves Right merry long syne hath made.
Seven waters and fires by the hundred Avail not to do out the stain
Which on the patchcoat of the Soufi The blood of the vine hath made.
O Hafiz, leave humbleness never; For th' envier offering still
Of honour, wealth, heart, religion At vainglory's shrine hath made.
With the Mohtesib's leave, her traffic She lawful, in fine, hath made.
From curtain to banquet she cometh. Come, wipe ye her sweat off, that she
May tell us why she with this absence The comrades to pine hath made.
Behoveth with union's fetters To prison the tipsy fair,
Who all this long show of estrangement And coyness malign hath made.
The gift for glad news give! Love's minstrel Once more, heart, the wine-bibbers' lilt
Hath sounded and eke for cropsickness The remedy, — wine, — hath made.
No wonder the rose of my nature Bloomed out at her waft: the bird
Of night o'er the damask rose-leaves Right merry long syne hath made.
Seven waters and fires by the hundred Avail not to do out the stain
Which on the patchcoat of the Soufi The blood of the vine hath made.
O Hafiz, leave humbleness never; For th' envier offering still
Of honour, wealth, heart, religion At vainglory's shrine hath made.
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