As long as wine and tavern are around,
Before the Master, I bow to the ground.
To the old Master, eternally I am bound,
Have always been, will always be, on this merry-go-round.

When you pass by my tomb, ask for grace,
It’s a shrine where the drunkards abound.
The self-serving pious can’t see this
That is veiled and with eyes can’t be found.
My lovely beloved left our midst on this day,
My tears ceaselessly flow, ceaselessly my chest I pound.

And when I go to sleep in my grave,
Until awakening, my concerns soul will hound.
Hafiz please help, or else fate will astound,
Beloved’s locks around arms of others may be wound

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