Hafiz, ode 8

O Zephyr! Tell that charming gazelle, as gently as possible: it is thou who art the cause that we wander over mountains and through plains.
Why does she whose words are so sweet—may her life be prolonged—why does she not inquire after that poor parrot who loves sugar so dearly?
Could it be pride in thy beauty, O rose, that has not allowed thee to inquire after the state of the poor, despairing Nightingale?
I truly know not why these fair ones, slender of waist, with dark eyes and faces whose radiance rivals that of the orb of night, feel aversion to every amorous attachment.
The only fault one can find in thy ravishing beauty is that pretty faces are generally deprived of that beauty spot which is the emblem of love and fidelity.
When thou art in the company of thy friend, joyfully emptying thy cup, at least remember the poor friends whose cup holds nothing but wind.

It is by gentleness and kindness that one captures the hearts of men of taste; it is not with a net and grains of wheat that one catches the intelligent bird.
What wonder that, hearing Hafiz’s verses, the Zohré in heaven, transported with joy and gladness, sets even the children of Jesus to dancing!