Despite being old, weak and poor,
When I think of the Beloved, I am young again.Thank Allah, that when I ask anything from Him,
I always reach where I must go.World, you are like a flower. Enjoy your spring.
I have become a nightingale in your garden.I was ignorant of the ebbs and flows of the World,
In the school of Love, I have become wise.It was written that I would stay at the Tavern,
Whatever is written, must be obeyed.The gate of wisdom was opened to me when I looked,
While standing at the gate of the Teacher.I sit high on a throne of ecstasy,
Frequently, I hold the cup of the Friend's grace.I'm not yet old, but the Beloved is disloyal,
I won't reach the Beloved until my life has ended.Last night Grace sent me good news,
"Hafiz, in Today your errors all disappear".
