Once more the warm wind spreads perfume with its breeze,
the entire world is reborn.The flowers serve their sweet perfumes like in cups,
They look for each other in wonderment.The cries of the birds
are their longing search,
silenced when they reach the flowers.I rushed off from the Mosque to the Tavern,
I had no time to waste on the priest's sermons.If you put off today's pleasures for tomorrow,
You'll find that if you have not lived,
you cannot borrow life later.The flowers are precious, enjoy them, my treasure.
For the flowers will soon be gone from the garden.Let the musicians play, have a good time,
forget the future, or what's already past.Hafiz, from your birth the Beloved was written for you,
Bid farewell to the Beloved,
for the Beloved will pass soon.
