غزل شمارهٔ 485

O Saki ! 'tis the shade of the cloud, and spring, and the stream-bank ; I say not, do what. Of the men of heart (Sufis), thou art. Do thou thyself say.

From this picture (of outward Sufis), cometh not the perfume of one colouredness (constancy). Arise, With pure wine, the (deceit-) stained and tattered garment of the Sufi, wash.

Mean of nature, is the world ; on its generosity, rely not ; O world-experienced one! from the mean, stability of foot do not thou-seek.

Thee, two counsels I make, Hear; and a hundred treasures bear away: " By the door of pleasure, enter ; in the path of defect, do not strive."

For thanks for that, that again to spring thou hast reached, The root of goodness, plant; the rose of the grace (of God) smell.

The true Beloved's face, thou seekest? Fit, the mirror (of the heart) make; If not, ever blossometh not the (red) rose and the wild (white) rose from (hard) iron and from (base) brass.

Thy ear open. For, this lament, the bulbul saith : "Khwaja! deficiency commit not; the rose of the grace (of God) smell."

Thou saidest : " From our Hafiz, cometh the perfume of hypocrisy :" Afarin be on the breath for well thou broughtest a great perfume.