غزل شمارهٔ 97

From all the heart-ravishers, it is fit that thou (O Muhammad) shouldest take tribute ; For, over all lovely ones (prophets), thou, crown-like, art chief.

Thy two intoxicated eyes, the tumult of all Turkistan ; To the curl of thy tress, Ma chin and Chin have given tribute.

The whiteness (of mercy) of thy face appeared more luminous than the face of day : The darkness (of vengeance) of thy tress, more dark than the darkness of dark night.

To the water (of life) of Khizr, thy small mouth hath given permanency : Over the sugar of Egypt, thy candy-like lip hath taken currency.

In truth, from this disease (of love for, and of separation from, thee) where shall I find recovery? If, from thee, my heart-pain reacheth no remedy.

O my soul ! from stone-heartedness, why shatterest thou The feeble heart which, through feebleness, is (fragile) like crystal.

Thy hair is (ever fresh like) Khizr ; and thy mouth, the water of life : Thy stature, the cypress ; thy waist, a hair ; and thy chest, like (lustrous) ivory.

In the head of Hafiz, the desire of a sovereign like thee hath fallen : Would to Heaven he (Hafiz) were the humble slave of the dust of thy door!