from the Persian of Hafiz

Of paradise, O Hermit wise,
    Let us renounce the thought;
Of old they're in our names of sin
   Allah recorded not.

Who dear to God on earthly sod
No corn-grain-plants, 
the same is glad that life is had,
Though corn he wants.

Oh just fakir, with brow austere,
   Forbid me not the vine;
On the first day, pour Hafiz' clay
  Was kneaded up with wine.

Thy mind the mosque and cool kiosk,
   Spare fast and and orisons;
Mine me allows the drinking-house,
   And sweet chase of the nuns.

He is no dervise, Heaven slights his service,
   Who shall refuse
They're in the banquet upon his blanket
   For Shiraz' juice.

Who his friend's skirt or hem of his shirt
   Shall spare to pledge,
To him Eden's bliss and angel's kiss
   Shall want their edge.

Up! Hafiz, grace from high God's face
   Beams on thee pure; 
Shy thou not hell, and trust thou well,
   Heaven is secure.