لعل سیراب به خون تشنه لب یار من است
My eyes drown in tears, yet thirst for but one chance
I'll give away my whole life, for Beloved, but one glance.
Be ashamed of Beloved's beautiful eyes and long lashes
If you have seen what I have, and still deny me my trance.
O traveler, leave these city gates behind and go back
Tread the same path, and towards my Beloved you'll advance.
With such shortage of love, I submit to my fate
That drunken gypsy's love is now my circumstance.
The aromatic flowers, the perfume of that hair
Is only a sample from my Perfumer's fragrance.
O gardener, like the breeze, do not drive me away,
You water your flowers with my tears' assistance.
Ordered me to drink much from my lover's sweet lips
And healed my sickened heart by taking such joyous stance.
The one who taught Hafiz, how his ghazals enhance,
Is none but my silent friend, with a sweet parlance.
به کوی میکده هر سالکی که ره دانست
Whoever had found his way to the tavern’s block
Would have to be insane if on another door knock
Fate never crowned any with drunkenness, except
The one who considered this the highest luck.
Whoever finds his way into the tavern
From the bounty of the wine, temple’s secrets unlock.
He who read the secrets of this wine,
Found the secrets in the dust upon which we walk.
Only seek the obedience of the insane
In our creed, logic and sanity we mock.
My heart asked not for longevity of beauty
Because sadly this is the way of the clock.
From the pain of the fading morning star at dawn
I cried so much that I saw the moon, though Venus my eyes struck.
Who talks about the story of Hafiz and his cup?
Why would the king know where the policemen flock?
Praise the King who considers the nine heavens
A mere crevice in His courtly block.
آن سیه چرده که شیرینی عالم با اوسـت
What beauty, sweetness of the world with her lies
Soft eyes, smiling lips, and happy heart with her lies.
Though sweetness of the tongue, kingship implies,
She is Solomon of times, and prophecy with her lies.
Beauty, artistry and innocence are her guise,
And hence, in both worlds, will of the Good, with her lies.
Her beauty-mole is that fair face's prize,
The secrets that seek the wise, with her lies.
My lover is leaving, God be with her through my cries,
What to do with broken heart, since my cure with her lies.
With whom can I share that she brought me my demise
I am now crucified, resurrection with her lies.
Respect Hafiz, his faith no-one denies,
Forgiveness of godly souls with her lies.
منـم که گوشه میخانه خانقاه من است
The corner of the tavern is my altar, where I pray
At dawn, the mantra of the Old Magi, I say.
Fear not if the harp plays not at sun's morning ascent
My morning cry of repentance is the music I play.
Thank God, free from beggars and kings, away, I stay;
Homage, to the beggar at the door of the Beloved, I pay.
For Thee, in the mosque and the tavern, my time, I spent;
By God, from this intent, I never ran nor walked astray.
Only, Angel of Death's blade can uproot my tent
Running from love and grace has never been my way.
From the time that I made my search for Thee my intent
I lean upon the throne on which the sun may lay.
Not your fault was the sins that were put into your clay
Nonetheless accept them, Hafiz, and good taste display.
دارم امید عاطـفـتی از جانـب دوسـت
I long for a kind sentiment from the Friend
I’ve sinned and hope for Her pardon in the end.
I know She will overlook my crimes, though she is
Beautiful-faced, on her angelic nature I can depend.
I cried such that whomever passed me by
Was in awe of the stream of my tears descend.
Naught is that mouth there, of it I see no sign
And there is that fair hair, yet knowing transcends.
I see her image in my mind and can’t wash out
In spite of all the tears that my eyes spend.
With no talk of your hair, my heart is just dead.
With your enchanting hair, which talk can I defend?
A life time has passed since I smelled your hair
That aroma, in the nose of my heart has since remained.
Hafiz your perturbed state is bad, yet
Perturbation over Beloved’s hair is a good trend.
آن پیک نامور که رسید از دیار دوسـت
The messenger who arrived from the land of my friend
Brought a charm, fragrant, and in the hand of my friend.
Wonderfully displayed her beauty and her glory
With the tales of noble and regal stand of my friend.
My heart took in the good news, though coy and shy
My heart readily will serve every command of my friend.
Thank heavens for the help of smiling fate
Runs smooth every errand of my friend.
The revolving orbs and the firmament have no say
They move at every wish and demand of my friend.
If the winds of calamity blow in both worlds
My eyes upon the composure, calm & bland of my friend.
Bring me a rare jewel, O gentle morning breeze
Since you have blown over the very sand of my friend.
We stand in Love's land, while our needs grand
Sweet dreams never brought a hair strand of my friend.
Hafiz, fear no foes who reprimand my friend
Thank God, I am not ashamed of me and of my friend.
مرحـبا ای پیک مـشـتاقان بده پیغام دوسـت
Well done O messenger, bring a message from my friend
Willingly I'll give my own life for the sake of my friend.
Like a nightingale in cage, being love-sick is my trend
A singing parrot in love with nuts and sweets of my friend.
My trap is her hair, her mole is the seed, and I
In search of those seeds have been trapped by my friend.
Will remain always drunk, until resurrection is nigh
Whoever, like me, drank from the cup poured by my friend.
I will speak no more of my elation, I trust
Focusing on me diverts me from my friend.
I'd use as eye-liner, if I could, the very dust
Upon which, once or twice walked my friend.
I long for union, while my friend away will turn,
I give up my desires to fulfill those of my friend.
In this your incurable fever, Hafiz, calmly burn
None can heal the pain of longing, my friend.
یا رب این شمع دل افروز ز کاشانه کیست
From whose house this joyous light brightens my heart?
Whose lover has sent my soul this cupid's burning dart?
This state wrecks my house and my faith
Whose bosom enfolds her & whose fingers her hair part?
The nectar of her lips always remains upon my lips
Whose soul will comfort & for whom pour a wine quart?
That candle who radiates riches and joy
Ask God, whose moth flight tonight shall thwart?
Mesmerizes everyone, while none can know
To whose tale her gentle heart will wake and smart?
O God, that supremely gentle and graceful face
Whose rare jewel is tonight and whose irreplaceable art?
I sighed, O Hafiz, that I'm crazy when apart
Smilingly you said who is the mad one from the start?
زاهد ظاهرپرسـت از حال ما آگاه نیسـت
Falsely pious, of our state are unaware
No offence if their words our hearts tear.
On the path, whatever you meet is for your good
On the straight and the narrow, can't be lost there.
Whatever the rook may play, we'll knock it down
On the chessboard of lovers, Kings won't dare.
What is this multi-patterned, tall, simple dome?
Who is wise to this riddle? Show me where?
Is this your grace, O Lord, powerful, wise?
Too many hidden wounds; no time to catch a breath of air.
It's as if the Judge of our Court is not fair.
This Royal Seal, sign of God does not bear
Whoever wishes may come, and whatever, may declare.
No guards, no grandeur, this hall is bare
Those who enter the tavern, openly share.
Those who sell themselves, meet the wine-seller's glare
Whatever befalls us is the doing of our own affair.
Your grace is not rare, and there's no one you'd spare
I serve the Tavern-Master, with his endless love and care.
Piety, sometimes is cold, sometimes will flare.
Hafiz gracefully declines from taking the head chair
Lovers are free from fortune and fame's snare.
روشـن از پرتو رویت نظری نیست که نیست
Lit up by the light of your face, there is no soul that is not
Longing for the dust of your place, there is no eye that is not.
Those who have seen your face, are all-knowing and wise
Secrets of your beauty and grace, there is no head where is not.
No wonder if my telling tears, red and bloody, rise from my eyes
Ashamed and repentant of one's own case, there is no one who is not.
Till His breeze settles His dust upon my lap as my prize
All things, everyone I chase, there is none passing that is not.
Till the fragrance of your hair to every inhaler flies
Morning breeze confer, embrace, there is no dawn that is not.
Puzzling fate, in my fate, my agony and pain lies
Being showered by your grace, there is no one who is not.
From your sweet lips, life's spring will chastely rise
Bathing in such a place, there is no sweetness that is not.
Disclosing such secrets is uncalled for and unwise
Else in the feast of the insane and base, there is no gossip that is not.
Brave lion in love's desert, just like a fox hides and lies
Alas, for on this path, at this pace, there is no hazard that is not.
Dust of the door of your house, my teary eyes will chastise
Obliged with such favors and such grace, there is no dust that is not.
My existence, some name, a little fame, identifies
Else, there, you can trace, there is no weakness that is not.
Hafiz is upset with you, with your harshness and your ties
Else in you, from toe to face, there is not a thing that is not.
