"What could Pierre write of his own on Love or any thing else, that would surpass what divine Hafiz wrote so many long centuries ago?" (Pierre)
Hither bring the wine, boy! hither bring the wine, boy!
For the season approaches, the season of joy.
Let us frolic and revel 'midst gardens and bowers,
Since the roses now bud, and the season is ours.
Let the vows of repentance religion has made,
Be forgotten, and broken beneath the cool shade:
Let us warble, like nightingales, through the gay grove,
And, imbedded in roses, here nestle in love.
Come, replenish, replenish the goblet with wine,
For of happiness lo! the sweet rose is the sign:
While she ripens and blows, your enjoyments pursue,
For anon she will wither and bid us adieu.
To the shade then where roses embowering twine,
Come, repair, quick repair, with thy friend, and with wine;
Let oblivious enjoyment there banish distress,
Whilst we warble, like nightingales, 'midst the recess.
'Tis from HAFIZ the rose claims her tribute of praise,
Let him prostrate before her his soul in soft lays,
Let him bow down his head to the dust at her shrine,
And in strains like the nightingale's hail her divine.
--paraphrase by John Hodden Hindley, Persian Lyrics