IV119

I saw the scythe of the moon cut through the fields of heaven,
I thought about the seeds I've sewn and the harvest I drew.

I said: "I'm out of luck, the sun has risen!"
It said: "Have no regrets."

If you can ascend as pure as the Christ,
Then your rays will shine brighter than the sun itself.

The stars can't be trusted, they roam in the night,
And have reduced many great rulers into dust.

Jewels of gold and ruby are of great price,
But easy days end quickly.

Allah protect human beauty,
For the Sun and the Moon seek to challenge it!

O Heaven, your grandeur cannot match the Beloved,
The Moon and constellations have no Love.

Keep your beat in the Beloved's orbit like a tambourine,
Don't let a few slaps to the head knock you off your dance!

Hypocrisy burns down the crop of spirit,
Hafiz! You have no need of your Sufi cloak!

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