The turn of the ascetics has passed;
the era of lovers has come.
The moon of the Occident is eclipsed;
the sun of the Orient has come.
O novice fire-worshipers, good news:
the Magi covenant is renewed.
Illusion has disappeared,
and the time for realities has come.
You who are love-crazed,
rejoice drunkenly:
play that sweet melody,
for good fortune has come.
The master of the tavern of love
is heading to the vat again —
the time for sama and ecstasy is here;
the sincere lover has come.
Lead the tavern haunters
towards merriment.
Clap your hands and beat the tambourine;
the appetite for mystical subtleties has come.
Autumn has passed
and the spring breeze has wafted here.
The partridge is strutting about;
the season for anemones has come.
Nurbakhsh hears the murmur,
“Drink, drink. May it bring joy!”
Yes, the turn of the ascetics has passed;
the era of lovers has come.