This poet cries out with praise the love of Hafezian rendi:
to seize the day with an unabashed joy like a malamati!
We have no problem with wild and drunken, naked riot:
our playful beloved is pure and chaste, sober and quiet!
To be sure, we have utterly no need for an audience;
we live out our passion in the lost heart’s joyous silence.
To the coy lover with long curly hair we turn our face;
to receive any other would be real everlasting disgrace!
Tonight, with the moon rising on the glistening sea shore,
the waves wash the mind until we hear the world no more.
The hum of her voice caresses the breast with a cool light;
the lilt of her speech teases the heart with a cruel delight.
Darvish walks the path of blame with a deep belly laugh:
but for the girl with long black hair life is a bitter gaffe!
