Ghazal 26

Hair disheveled, perspiring, laughing-lipped, and drunk,

shirt torn, singing ghazals, wine flask in hand,

her narcissus eyes seeking quarrel, her lips murmuring regret —

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

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

said: O my old lover, are you asleep?

A lover who is given such wine at dawn —

he is an infidel to love if he does not worship wine.

Go, O ascetic, and find no fault with the dregs-drinkers,

for they gave us nothing but this gift on the Day of the Covenant.

Whatever was poured into our cup, we drank —

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

The laughter of the wine cup and the tangled curls of the beloved —

O how many a vow, like the vow of Hafez, they have broken!