غزل شمارهٔ 83

If from the hand of Thy musky tress, a fault passed, it passed: And, if against us from Thy dark mole, an act of tyranny passed, it passed.

If, the harvest of one wool-clad, Love’s lightning consumed, it consumed: If, against a beggar, the violence of the prosperous king passed, it passed.

In Tarikat, is no grief of heart. Bring wine: Every impurity that thou seest, when, purity passed, it passed.

O heart! keep firm of foot. For love-playing, endurance is necessary: If a vexatious matter was, it was; if a tyrannous matter passed, it passed.

If, from the Heart-possessor’s glance, a load a heart bore, it bore: Between the soul and the true Beloved a matter passed, it passed.

From carpers, reproaches appear; but, If, among fellow-sitters, aught unfit passed, it passed.

O admonisher! say: “Censure not Hafez who hath gone from the cloister.” How bindest thou the foot of a free one? If to a place he passed, he passed.