Poem #275

O Sufi, pick a rose and give your patched robe to the thorn

give this dry asceticism to the pleasant-tasting wine.

Lay your extravagances and ecstatic claims in the path of the harp's melody

give the rosary and turban to the wine and the drinker.

Give that heavy asceticism, which neither the Beloved nor the Cupbearer will buy

to the spring breeze in the garden circle.

Ruby wine has waylaid me, O Chief of Lovers

give my blood to the well of the Friend's chin.

O Lord, at the time of the rose, forgive Your servant's sin

and give this tale to the cypress by the stream.

O you who have found the path to the source of desire

give a drop from this sea to me, who am but dust.

In thanksgiving that your eye did not look upon the face of idols

give us to the forgiveness and grace of the Lord.

O Cupbearer, when the King drinks the morning wine

say: 'Give a golden cup to Hafez, who keeps the night watch.'