غزل شمارهٔ 284

Last night from the corner of the wine-house, an invisible messenger Spake : " Sin, they pardon : wine, drink !"

Its own work, doeth divine pardon : The glad tidings of mercy, Surush causeth to arrive.

To the wine-house, take this crude wisdom : So that to tumult, the ruby wine its blood may bring.

Although, not by effort union with Him, they give, O heart ! that much that thou canst, strive.

Greater than our sin, is God's grace : ('Tis) a subtlety head closed. What sayest thou ? Silence !

(Together are) my ear and the curl of the true Beloved's tress ; (Together are) my face, and the dust of the door of the wine-seller.

The profligacy of Hafiz is not a hard perverse sin In the estimation of mercy of the King, defect-concealing (God).

The Ruler of faith, Shah Shuja', He who, slave to his order, made the holy spirit (Jibra.il).

His desire, give, O angel of the ninth heaven (God's throne)! Him, from the evil eye, keep.