When thy face's mirrored semblance On the goblet's shine befalleth,
Longing vain the greatest sages From the laughing wine befalleth.

From one single revelation Of thy beauty in the mirror
All the many a kind of picture, That men's thoughts design, befalleth.

How shall mortal with the age's Course but turn, as doth the compass,
In the days' revolving circle Since his lot, in fine, befalleth?

Never more, o sir, thou'lt see me In the cloister! With the skinker's
Cheek and goblet's lip henceforward This affair of mine befalleth.

It behoveth for her victims 'Neath grief's sword to go a-dancing:
Whoso's slain of her a goodly Ending, by this sign, befalleth.

From the mosque unto the tavern, Not of my freewill, I've fallen;
Thus it me by fore-eternal Ordinance Divine befalleth.

Since Love's jealousy still muteth Every noble tongue, how is it
In the vulgar's mouth their secret, Who for her do pine, befalleth?

Some new favour she each moment On me heart-a-fire conferreth:
See how worship-worth this lowly Beggarman of thine befalleth!

From thy chin-pit my heart, reaching, To the curl clung of thy tresses;
'Las, it, from the pit escaping, In the springe's twine befalleth!

Soufis one and all whoremongers Are and topers; but, among them,
Unto heart-sick Hafiz only Ill-repute for wine befalleth.