Ghazal 3

اگر آن تُرکِ شیرازی به‌‌ دست‌ آرَد دلِ ما را

به خال هِندویَش بَخشَم سَمَرقند و بُخارا را

بده ساقی مِیِ باقی که در جَنَّت نخواهی یافت

کنارِ آبِ رُکناباد و گُل‌گَشتِ مُصَلّا را

فَغان! کاین لولیانِ شوخِ شیرین‌کارِ شهرآشوب

چُنان بُردند صبر از دل که تُرکان خوانِ یَغما را

ز عشقِ ناتمامِ ما جمالِ یار مُستَغنی‌ است

به آب و رنگ و خال و خط چه حاجت رویِ زیبا را؟

مَن از آن حُسنِ روزاَفزون که یوسُف داشت دانستم

که عشق از پردهٔ عِصمت بُرون آرَد زُلِیخا را

اگر دشنام فرمایی و گَر نفرین دعا گویم

جوابِ تلخ می‌زیبَد لبِ لَعلِ شِکرخا را

نصیحت گوش کن جانا که از جان دوست‌تر دارند

جوانانِ سعادتمند پندِ پیرِ دانا را

حَدیث از مُطرب و مِی گو و رازِ دَهر کمتر جو

که کس نَگشود و نَگشاید به حکمت این مُعمّا را

غزل گفتی و دُر سُفتی بیا و خوش بخوان حافظ

که بر نظمِ تو اَفشانَد فَلَک عِقد ثُریّا را

If that Bold One (the true Beloved) of Shiraz gain our heart,

For His dark mole, I will give Samarkand and Bukhara (both worlds).

Saki! give the wine (of divine love) remaining (from the people of religion)

for, in Paradise, thou wilt not have The bank of the water of the Ruknabad (the lover's weeping eye) nor the rose of the garden of Musalla (the lover's heart).

Alas! These saucy dainty ones (lovely women) sweet of work, the torment of the city,

Take patience from the heart even as the men of Turkistan (take) the tray of plunder.

The beauty of the Beloved (God) is in no need of our imperfect love

Of lustre, and colour, and mole and tricked line (of eyebrow), — what need hath the lovely face ?

By reason of that beauty, daily increasing that Yusuf (the absolute Existence, the real Beloved, God) had, I (the first day) knew

that Love for Him would bring Zulaikha (us, things possible) forth from the screen of chastity (the pure exis- tence of God).

The tale of minstrel and of wine (of Love) utter; little seek the mystery of

time; For this mystery, none solved by skill (thought and knowledge); and shall not solve.

O Soul! Hear the counsel (of the Murshid). For, dearer than

the soul, hold happy youths the counsel of the wise old man.

(O murshid!) thou (to amend my work) spakest ill of me

and I am happy. God Most High forgive thee thou spakest well: The bitter reply suiteth the ruddy lip, sugar-eating.

Thou utteredest a ghazal

and threadedest pearls (of verse). Hafiz! come and sweetly sing That, on thy verse, the sky may scatter (in thanks) the cluster of the Pleiades. 8 Whoever hath the rank of a path-shower rebuke on his part is well.

agar an tork shirazi be dast arad del ma ra

be khal henduyash bakhsham samarghand o bokhara ra

bedeh saghi mi baghi ke dar jannat nakhuahi yaaft

kenar ab roknabad o gol-gasht mosalla ra

faghan! ka'in luliyan shukh shirin-kar shahrashub

chenan bordand sabr az del ke torkan khan yaghma ra

ze 'eshgh natmame ma jamal yar mostaghni ast

be ab o rang o khal o khat che hajat ruy ziba ra?

man az an hosn ruzafzun ke yausof dasht danasatm

ke 'eshgh az parde 'esamt birun arad zoleikha ra

agar dashnam farmaii o gar nafrin do'a guyam

juabe talkh mi-zibad lab la'l shekarkha ra

nasiht gush kon jana ke az jan dust-tar darand

juanane s'adatamand pande pir dana ra

hadis az motreb o mi gu o raz dahr kamatar ju

ke kas nagshud o nagshaid be hekmat in mo'mama ra

ghazal gafti o dar softi biya o khosh bekhaan hafez

ke bar nazme to afshanad falak 'eghd sorayya ra