غزل شمارهٔ 186

If lawful the need of profligates, the wine-seller maketh, His sin, God forgiveth; and, repelling of calamity maketh.

Saki! Give wine in the cup of justice, so that the beggar Gather not jealousy that, the world full of calamity, he maketh.

O God! The glad tidings of safety from these griefs may arrive, If, fidelity in the covenant of trust, the holy traveller maketh.

Sage! If before thee come sorrow or ease, Ascribe not to other; for these, God maketh.

In the workshop, wherein is no path to reason and excellence, An arrogant judgment, why weak imagination maketh?

Minstrel! Thy lyre, play: “Without death, none died.” This melody, who chanteth not, mistake maketh.

Since love’s pain is ours, and the calamity of wine-sickness, Either the ruby of the beloved, or the pure wine maketh.

In the desire of wine, life passed; and in love Hafez consumed: Where is one of Isa-breath that our reviving maketh.