With Mussed-up hair and moistened brow
The tempting lips of an intoxicated smile
With open blouse rent to the waist,
Singing a sonnet's soft strain
Her cup contained a potent brew.

With provacative glance and slanted smile
She came at midnight and sat awhile.
Then whispered in soft, low tones,
'Have you given away to sleep,
You who have been my faithful lover?'

Night watching lovers
Your love is a fake
If you don't pursue
The juice of this Grape.

Away, you hypocrites
Don't belittle those who drink of the cask,
Even the dregs can be dear,
For no more was given when creation was cast.

I have drunk to the end
What was given to me
Or the cup of Eternity.
How many, as Hafiz, to repentance have resigned
By fetching billowing hair, and heady flowing wine?