غزل شمارهٔ 77

A nightingale had a rose-leaf, pleasant of hue in his beak, And, on that leaf and pleasant food, bitter lamentation held.

To him, I said: “In the very time of union wherefore is this lament and cry?” He said: “In this work of lament, me the beloved’s beauty held.”

If the true Beloved sate not with us beggars, room for complaint is none; King, prosperous was He; shame of beggars, He held.

Our supplication and entreaty affect not the Friend possessed of beauty, Happy he, who from beloved ones, the fortune of prosperity held.

Arise! so that on the reed of that Painter, we may scatter our soul; For, all this wonderful picture, in the revolution of His compass, Lie held.

If thou be a disciple of love’s Path, defame not: Pawned at the vintner’s house, his religious garment Shaikh San’an held.

Happy, the time of that gentle Kalandar who, in the paths of wandering, Mention of the rosary of the King, in the girdle of the Zunnar, held.

Below the roof of the palace of that beloved of Hun-nature, the eye of Hafez The way of paradise, beneath which streams are flowing, held.