O preacher, the heat of hell will never touch the wine-drinkers, for anything that is drenched in wine does not burn in fire.
Here, the poet playfully banters with the self-righteous preacher who loves to terrify sinners with the flames of hell. With delightful wit, he retorts that wine-lovers are so completely drenched in drink that fire couldn't possibly ignite them. Beneath this cheeky and absurd pseudo-logic lies a classic ghazal sentiment: the honest, heartfelt intoxication of living freely is a far greater grace than the rigid dogma of the moralist.
Interpretation note: meanings and explanations may be AI-assisted and should not replace a primary text or scholarly edition. See the editorial policy.
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