غزل شمارهٔ 54

From weeping, the pupil of my eye seated in blood is, Behold the state of men in search of Thee, how it is.

To the memory of Thy ruby and wine-like intoxicated eye, From griefs cup, the wine of that ruby that I drink, blood is.

From the east of the head of the street, the sun of Thy countenance, If it rise, my fortune auspicious is.

The tale of Shirin’s lip, Farhad’s talk is; The twist of Laila’s tress, Majnun’s dwelling is.

Seek my heart. For thy stature, like the cypress is heart-seeking. Utter speech. For thy speech gracious and weighed is.

O Saki! From the circulation of the cup, cause a little mercy to reach my soul: For, from the grief of the sphere’s revolution, the heart’s sorrow is.

From that time when, from my grasp, went the precious musical chord, Like the river Jeyhun, my skirt’s border is.

Gladsome, how may my sorrowful heart become By the power that beyond my power is?

Through distraughtness, Hafez seeketh for the true Beloved: Like ‘an indigent one, who a seeker of Qarun’s treasure is.