Classic Poem

Sum and produce of this Workshop Of the Sphere, all this is nought;
Wine come bring; for the world's business, Goods and gear, all this is nought.

Heart and soul ensue the honour Of the Loved One's company;
That is every thing; without it, Life and cheer, all this is nought.

What, without heart's bloodshed, cometh To the hand good fortune is;
Heaven won with toil and striving Were too dear; all this is nought.

Be not thou for shade beholden To the Touba or the Lote;
Look but well, o cypress-shaped one; 'Twill appear, all this is nought

Take and use the five days' respite In this inn to thee vouchsafed;
Rest in peace, for time and season, Day and year, all this is nought.

Skinker, on the brink we tarry Of the sea of transience;
Seize th' occasion, lip-to-mouth like, While it's here; all this is nought

Of discredit reck thou nothing And be gladsome as the rose;
For the fleeting world-all's puissance, Joy and fear, all this is nought.

Rest thou not assured, o zealot, 'Gainst the wiles of zeal: beware!
For from cell to Magians' convent, Far or near, all this is nought.

Need of proving and expounding What I suffer, I the lean
Sorrow-stricken man, there is not; Nay, 'tis clear; all this is nought.

Hafiz' name the seal of honour Hath received; but loss and gain,
Blame and honour, in the toper's Eye and ear, all this is nought.