غزل شمارهٔ 211

Last night, He (the true Beloved) came ; and His cheek, He had enkindled. Let us see, the grief-stricken heart (of the lover), how He had consumed.

The custom of lover-slaying ; and the way of city-upsetting Was a garment that, on His form, He had stitched.

Rue for His own face, He (the true Beloved) regarded the lover's soul : And, for this work (of consuming the lover), the (ruddy) fire of His cheek, had enkindled.

Although, outwardly, He spake saying: "I will cruelly slay thee," I saw That secretly towards me, heart-consumed, His glance had been.

The (black) infidelity of His (dark) tress attacked the path of faith ; and that one of stony heart, In its (faith's) path, a torch (formed) of His ruddy face, had enkindled.

To hand, much blood my heart brought; but, my eye (with bloody tears) spilled it : Allah, Allah ! (this blood) who had expended ; who had collected ?

The (true) Beloved, sell not for the world (and in the world's attachments be not foot-bound). For, much, it profited not That one who, for base gold, Yusuf, had sold.

He spake, and sweetly spake : " Hafiz ! go ; and burn the khirka : " O Lord ! from whom, this (power of) base-coin recognising (is it that) He had learned?