Ghazal 386

For God's sake, do not sit much with the cloak-wearers —

do not hide your face from the disordered rends.

In this cloak there is much stain —

how sweet the time of the wine-sellers' coats.

In these Sufi-like ones I did not see any passion —

may the pleasure of the dregs-drinkers be clear.

You are delicate-natured and cannot bear

the heaviness of a band of cloak-wearers.

Since you have made me drunk, do not sit veiled —

since you have given me nectar, do not make me drink poison.

Come and see the swindle of these pretenders —

the flask weeping blood, and the lute crying out.

Beware of the warmth of Hafez's heart —

for he has a breast like a boiling cauldron.