غزل شمارهٔ 194

Those of lily perfume cause grief’s dust to sit when they sit: Patience from the heart, those of Angel-face take when they strive.

To the saddle-strap of tyranny, hearts they bind when they bind: From the ambergris beperfumed tress, souls they scatter, when they scatter.

In a life-time, with us a moment, they rise, when they sit, In the heart, the plant of desire they plant, when they rise up.

The tear of the corner-takers they find, when they find: From the love of morning-risers, the face they turn not, if they know.

From my eye, the pomegranate-like ruby they rain, when they laugh: From my face, the hidden mystery, they read, when they look.

The one who thought that the remedy for lover is simple: Out of sight of those sages who consider treatment, be.

Those who like Mansur are on the gibbet, take up that desire of remedy: To this court, they call Hafez when they cause him to die.

In that presence, the desirous ones bring grace, when they bring supplication: For, if in thought of remedy they are, distressed with this pain, they are.