When you hear the words of those who know,
don’t say they are wrong.
You do not understand such speech, my lovely one.
That is what’s wrong.
I do not acknowledge this world or the next.
God be praised for these heretical thoughts.
I don’t know who is within wounded-hearted me
that I am silent while he shouts and moans.
My heart has dropped its veil. Where are you, 0 minstrel?
Sing your songs that will save me.
I never cared about worldly things. To my eyes
your face gave them their beauty.
The thoughts churning in my head keep me awake.
I’ve had a hangover for months. Where is the tavern?
Given how my heart’s blood stained the cloister,
you have the righteous authority to wash me with wine.
They cherish me in the Zoroastrian temple
because the flame in my heart never dies.
What instrument did the minstrel play behind the veil?
that life has passed by and my mind is still filled with joy?
Last night your love echoed within me.
The inside of Hafiz’s heart is still filled with that sound.