At dawn, when from the quiet-house in the Castle of Novelty
the candle in the east projects its rays all around
The heavens take the mirror from horizon’s corner and in it
reflect the face of the universe of a thousand kind
In the nooks of Jamsheed’s cabaret; the sky
Venus plays the organ; a tune joyous and slow
The harp clamors “What became of the disbeliever?”
The wine-cup laughingly asks “Where’d the prohibitor go?”
Behold the times and take the wine-cup of joy
for in any state this is the best of things
The earthly beauty’s lock of hair is but woven deceit
The learned quarrel not over such strings
Hafez