Warm wind, if you blow through the lands of my Beloved,
Bring me the Beloved's scents.I would give my life to the Beloved,
for but one sound brought as message by the warm wind.If by misfortune I've missed the Beloved's presence,
then bless me with the dust
from somewhere the Beloved walked.What a sorry sight, a Sufi in distress.
I can only see the Beloved, others think me mad.My firm heart trembles like a reed,
wishing only the kiss of the Beloved.The Beloved has bought my heart for free,
And I will not sell the Beloved
for all the world's fortune.Hafiz, if your heart is ever truly freed from sorrow,
it will miss such a faithful servant.
