Shiraz city of the heart,

God preserve thee!

Pearl of capitals thou art,

Ah! to serve thee.

Ruknabad, of thee I dream

Fairy river:  

Whose drinks thy running stream 

Lives for ever .

 

Wind that blows from Ispahan

Whence thy sweetness?

Flowers ran with thee as thou ran

With such fleetness.

Flowers from Jafarbad

Made of flowers

Thou for half-way house hast had

Musellas bowers.

 

Right through Shiraz the path goes

Of perfection;

Anyone in Shiraz knows

Its direction.

 

Spend not on Egyptian sweets

Shiraz money .

Sweet enough in Shiraz streets

Shiraz honey.

 

 

East wind hast thou aught to tell

Of my gipsy?

Was she happy?

Was she Well? Was she tipsy?

 

Wake me not I pray thee friend

From my sleeping;

Soon my little dream must end

Waking’s weeping.

 

Hafiz  though his blood she spill.

Right he thinks it;

Like mother’s milk’tis his will

That she drinks it.

 

Translated by R. Legallienne.