Of the interests of the deceptive we are unaware,
Of the sages we are unaware.
The wise of our passionate state are unaware,
Of the learned’s futility we are unaware.
Of the lovers of her features there is no news in both worlds,
What can we do that about the unaware we are unaware.
The love’s secret is covered in te view of the secret revealers,
Of the scandal of these slanderes we are unaware.
Senselessness, intoxication and the tavern-dwelling of love,
We can not claim to be unaware of the wayfarers.
Give me a cup with your own hand, you the cause of love,
Of the others’ joy any gay we are unaware.