O Lord, that fresh smiling rose you put in my trust,
I return to you because of the jealous eye of the chaman.
Although she moved many miles from the street of fidelity,
May the ravages of time be far from her soul and body.
O zephyr, if you arrive at Salma‘s home,
I expect you to give my greetings to her.
Courteously open the musk-bag from that black hair.
It is the place of many cherished hearts. Do not entangle it.
Say: «My heart has the right of fidelity to your beauty.
Hold it in respect in that amber gris-scented tress.»
In a place where they drink wine to the memory of her lip,
Mean is that drunkard who is conscious of his own self.
One cannot gain honor and wealth from the tavern‘s door.
Whoever drinks this water, throw his chattels into the sea.
He who fears vexation does not deserve the grief of love.
Let either my head be at her feet or my lip on her mouth.
Hafes’s poems all are sonnets of divine knowledge.
Praise be to his charming breath and his grace of speech.