غزل شمارهٔ 265

Through desire of thy lip, forth cometh not my desire yet In the hope of the cup of thy ruby (lip), a dreg-drinker am I yet.

On the first day (the day of Alast), in desire of thy two tresses, departed my faith : Let us see, in this phrensy, what my end will be yet.

O Saki (perfect Murshid)! of that water, fire of hue, one draught, give me. For I, In the midst of those experienced in His Love, inexperienced am I yet.

One night, in mistake, I called Thy hair the (fragrant) musk of Khutan : Momently, a sword on my limbs (saying why didst thou liken His glorious hair to contemptible musk ?) the hair striketh yet.

In my khilvat, a ray (of splendour) of Thy face, the (resplendent) sun beheld : Momently, like the shadow, to my door and roof, he (the sun) goeth yet.

One day, in mistake, to the true Beloved's lip, went my name : To people of heart, from my name the perfume of the soul (of the Beloved) cometh yet.

To us, in eternity without beginning, the Saki gave the ruby of Thy lip ; The draught of a cup, of which cup, senseless am I yet.

O Thou that saidest : " Give thy soul, that ease of heart may be thine," In griefs for Him (the true Beloved), my soul, I gave. Mine, not ease, is yet.

The tale of the ruby of Thy lip, Hafiz brought into his pen (writing) ; Momently, from my pens, the water of life floweth yet.