غزل شمارهٔ 219

Now that from non-existence to existence into the sward (the world, the field of this, and of the next, world) hath come the rose (man) And, at its foot, the violet in homage hath laid its head,

Drink a cup of morning wine to the throb of the drum and the harp : Kiss the Saki's chin to the melody of the reed and the lyre.

In the rose-season, sit not without wine, and the mistress, and the harp : For like time, its permanency is marked (only) a week.

From the mansions of odoriferous herbs, luminous like the sky became The earth with the auspicious star, and the happy (natal) star.

From the hand of a beauty, tender of cheek, 'Isa of breath, Drink wine ; and give up the tale of Ad and Samud.

In the season of the lily and of the rose, the world became like highest paradise : But, what profit since in it no perpetuality is possible?

When the rose becometh, like Sulaiman, a rider on the air, In the morning when the bird entereth upon the melody of Da,ud.

In the garden (of thy existence), renew the usages of the faith of Zardusht, Now that the (red) tulip hath kindled the fire of Nimrud.

Demand the brimful cup to the memory of the Asaf of the age, The Vazir of the Land of Sulaiman, 'Imadu-d-Din Mahmud.

By the blessing of his instruction, it may be that the assembly of Hafiz Whatever it may seek, for it all may be ready.