A rose that isn’t the Beloved’s face is worthless;
A spring that is not made of wine is worthless too.
The fences around the fields and the breeze blowing in gardens
Without the Beloved’s tulip cheek are worth nothing and without grace.
What use are sugary lips and roses that look like God,
Without His kiss or smothering embrace?
The dance of the swaying cypress and the rapture of the rose,
Without the nightingale’s songs, are worthless.
O gardener, every picture that the hands of intellect have drawn
Is useless unless they have traced Your face.
So, if you are drinking wine or sitting in the garden with roses
Instead of seeking the Beloved, then you are wasting time.
Hafiz, your life is nothing more than a tarnished old coin,
Traded again and again for others to deface. Don’t you have
Something better you can do?
- Translation by Thomas Rain Crowe
- From: Drunk on the Wine of the Beloved 100 Poems of Hafiz – Shambhala 2001
- Reprinted with permission