غزل شمارهٔ 432

O Saki ! intoxicated with love's cup, I am ; give a little wine. Full, make the goblet ; for, without wine, the assembly hath not (even) a little lustre.

Love for his face like the moon, cometh not truly within the screen ; Minstrel ! a melody, strike up. Saki ! give a little wine.

(At Thy door, curved like) the ring, became my stature ; so that, after this, the watcher May not drive us again from this door to another door.

(Together are) in expectation of Thy face, we and hopefulness : (Together are) in the deceit (vain hope) of union, we and (vain) fancy, and a vain dream.

Hafiz ! in the fancy for lovely ones, thy heart wherefore placest thou ? When becometh sated the thirsty one, from the flashing of a mirage.