Curls dishevelled, flushed and laughing

زلف آشفته و خوی کرده و خندان لب و مست

Curls dishevelled, flushed with sweat, lips laughing and drunk,

پیرهن چاک و غزل خوان و صراحی در دست

shirt torn open, singing a ghazal, a flask of wine in hand,

نرگسش عربده جوی و لبش افسوس کنان

her narcissus eye spoiling for a quarrel, her lip mocking and lamenting,

نیم شب دوش به بالین من آمد بنشست

at midnight last night she came to my pillow and sat down.

سر فرا گوش من آورد به آواز حزین

She brought her head close to my ear and in a sorrowful voice

گفت ای عاشق دیرینه من خوابت هست

said: "O my lover of old, are you asleep?"

عاشقی را که چنین باده شبگیر دهند

A lover to whom they give such wine before dawn

کافر عشق بود گر نشود باده پرست

is an infidel to love if he does not become a worshipper of wine.

برو ای زاهد و بر دردکشان خرده مگیر

Go, O ascetic, and do not find fault with the dreg-drinkers,

که ندادند جز این تحفه به ما روز الست

for on the day of Alast they gave us no gift but this.

آن چه او ریخت به پیمانه ما نوشیدیم

Whatever He poured into our measure, we drank,

اگر از خمر بهشت است وگر باده مست

whether it was the wine of paradise or the wine of drunkenness.

خنده جام می و زلف گره گیر نگار

The laughter of the wine cup and the beloved's knotted curl:

ای بسا توبه که چون توبه حافظ بشکست

oh, how many vows of repentance they have broken, like Hafez's!