Within the mystic mosque there prays

Within the mystic mosque there prays
None like to me or far or near,
For red wine have I pledged always
My books now there, my cowl now here.

My heart which God his mirror made
Is dimmed and tarnished o’er with dust;
To find the path from which I’ve strayed,
Oh send some guide whom I may trust!

On my old ragged robe remain
The tears which never cease to flow;
Come back, Dear Heart! Come back again!
I plead thus in my passion’s glow.

Go bring me now the ship of wine,
Since on love’s long and luckless way
Within my eye corners a-shine
There grows Grief’s ocean day by day.

Of Beauty let be all my thought,
Of other things keep silence, pray,
Beauty I love--youth--beside naught--
Except wine--wine, which well I may!

Once long ago when flutes were high
At dawn unto a tavern door
A handsome Christian lad drew nigh
And sang as none have sung before:

If Moslem men are like to thee,
Hafiz, and love and drink and sing,
Then woe betide them should there be
Atonement and a reckoning.