Ghazal 214

دیدم به خوابِ خوش که به دستم پیاله بود

تعبیر رفت و کار به دولت حواله بود

چل سال رنج و غصّه کشیدیم و عاقبت

تدبیرِ ما به دستِ شرابِ دوساله بود

آن نافهٔ مراد که می‌خواستم ز بخت

در چینِ زلفِ آن بتِ مشکین کُلاله بود

از دست برده بود خمارِ غمم سحر

دولت مساعد آمد و مِی در پیاله بود

بر آستانِ میکده خون می‌خورم مدام

روزیِّ ما ز خوانِ قَدَر این نَواله بود

هر کو نکاشت مِهر و ز خوبی گُلی نچید

در رهگذارِ باد نگهبانِ لاله بود

بر طَرْفِ گلشنم گذر افتاد وقتِ صبح

آن دَم که کارِ مرغِ سحر آه و ناله بود

دیدیم شعرِ دلکش حافظ به مدحِ شاه

یک بیت از این قصیده به از صد رساله بود

آن شاهِ تندحمله که خورشیدِ شیرگیر

پیشش به روزِ معرکه کمتر غزاله بود

In a pleasant dream, I beheld that in my hand, the cup was Interpretation passed

and, entrusted to fortune, the work was.

Forty years I endured trouble and vexation (in love's path). In the end, In the power of wine, two

years of age (the glorious Kuran, wherein I find every delight I sought), the deliberation of it t was.

That pod of desire that from fortune, I desired, In the tress-curl of that idol of musky tresses, was. In the morning, grief's languor had overpowered me

Fortune became prosperous; in the cup, the wine (of union with the true Be- loved; wine, life-giving) was. 5.

Blood (of grief), I drink

but room for complaint is none From the tray of liberality, our lot this morsel was. Blood, I ever drink on the threshold of the wine-house, As on the first day, this very (blood-drinking) assigned to me was.

Wailing and justice-seeking, I go to the wine-house

For there, from sigh and wail, the loosening of my work was. Who planted not love, nor plucked a rose for its loveliness, In the wind's path, the tulip's care-taker (ever in trouble)—— was.

By the rose-bed, chanced my passing at morning-time, When sigh and wail, the work of the bird of the sward was. 10. In praise of the king, we saw Hafiz's heart-alluring verse, Every couplet of that book (of verse) better than a hundred letters was

That king, savage of attack, before whom the sun, lion-seizing, Less than a fawn, on the day of battle, was. 8.

From its delicacy, the tulip falleth from the wind's

motion and perisheth. From Time's calamity, none can preserve himself.

Then the practising of love and the taking up of profit from loveliness — is best. On the volume

(of its leaf), Hafiz's utterance, the rose kept writing A verse, whose subtlety better than a hundred works, was.

Into the bulbul's heart, the breeze of the garden cast fire, On

account of that sealed-up stain that in the tulip^s soul, was. 13.

didam be khuabe khosh ke be dasatam piyale bud

t'bir raft o kar be dolat huale bud

chal sal ranaj o ghosse kashidim o 'aghabt

tadbire ma be dast sharab dusale bud

an nafe morad ke mi-khuasatm ze bakht

dar chine zolf an bate moshkin kolale bud

az dast barde bud khamare ghamam sahar

dolat masa'd amad o mi dar piyale bud

bar astan meykade khun mi-khurm modam

ruzi ma ze khan ghadr in nauale bud

har ku nakasht mehr o ze khubi goli nachid

dar rahagzare bad naghbane lale bud

bar taraf galashanam gozar oftad vaght sobh

an dam ke kar morgh sahar ah o nale bud

didim she'r dalakash hafez be madhe shah

yek bit az in ghaside be az sad rasale bud

an shah tanadahamle ke khorshid shirgir

pishsh be ruz m'rake kamatar ghazale bud