Are not in vain!
Last night the wind from out her village blew,
And wandered all the garden alleys through,
Oh rose, tearing thy bosom’s robe in two;
’Twas not in vain!
And Hafiz, though thy heart within thee dies,
Hiding love’s agony from curious eyes,
Ah, not in vain thy tears, not vain thy sighs,
Not all in vain!