غزل شمارهٔ 43

The court of the garden is joy-giving; and the society of friends, pleasant; Pleasant, be the time of the rose, whereby the time of wine-drinkers is pleasant.

From the morning breeze, momently our soul’s perfume is pleasant. Yes, yes. The perfume of desire-possessing spirits is pleasant.

The rose, veil unlifted prepared to depart: O nightingale bewail; for the plaint of heart-wounded ones is pleasant.

To the night-singing bird, be the good news that, in Love’s path, To the Friend, the vigilant one, weeping at night is pleasant.

In the world’s market, is no happy-heartiness. If there be, The way of profligacy and of happy-being of hypocrites is pleasant.

From the tongue of the Lily, came to my ear this noble speech, “In the old cloister, the work of those light of burden is pleasant.”

Hafez! Abandoning the world is the path of happy-heartiness. So long as thou thinkest not that the circumstance of World-Possessors is pleasant.