غزل شمارهٔ 17

From the fire of my heart, my chest in grief for the Beloved consumed. In this house, was a fire, that the house consumed.

From the farness of the Heart-Ravisher, my body melted: From Love’s fire for the Beloved’s face, my soul consumed.

Behold the heart’s burning! For, from the great fire of my tears, the candle’s heart, Last night, from Love’s desire, like the moth, consumed.

Strange it is not that the Friends are heart-consuming: When out of myself, I went, the stranger’s heart consumed.

The water of the tavern took my religious garment of austerity: My house of reason, the fire of the tavern consumed.

As the cup of my heart broke from the repentance that I made, My liver, like a wine flagon, without wine and the tavern, consumed.

O Admonisher! make little talk; come back. For, the man of my eye Plucked, from off my head, the religious garment; and, in thanks, consumed.

Hafez! Abandon idle talk; and, awhile, drink wine: For, last night, we slept not; and, with this idle talk, the candle consumed.