THE NIGHTINGALES'S TALE
	The nightingale told the tale to
	the east wind in the morning
	About what love for rose's face
	caused him, he was lamenting.
	Love has caused my heart to
	bleed for that blooming face:
	Me, to be cut by that thorn from
	that rosebed it was causing.
	I am the servant of whatever that
	graceful  One may command,
	Who gave freedom without any
	hypocrisy or any dissembling.

May the soft breeze of the morning be pleasant to that One,

Who made remedy for grief for those who at night are sitting.

I will never again complain about strangers, because whatever

They have done, it has really always been the Friend's doing.

If I had been hopeful of the King, then it was all my mistake;

If I sought faith from Heartstealer, tyranny was Your making.

In all directions, nightingales because of love were crying out;

While in the middle, I was given joy by the breeze of morning.

It drew back the veil of the rose and the curls of the hyacinth;

It, the tight knot of the coat of the rosebud was unfastening.

Respected ones of city becoming faithful to me who had gained

Perfection of faith and fortune, was Father of Faith's doing.

Please take the happy news into the street of the Winesellers:

That Hafiz, of all austerity and hypocrisy has been repenting.

English Version by Paul Smith