غزل شمارهٔ 166

“The day of separation from, and the night of disunion with, the Beloved is ended:” This omen, I cast; the star passed; and the work of grief is ended.

All that grace and beauty, that autumn displayed, At last, at the foot of the spring-breeze, is ended.

Thanks to God that, by the fortune of the cap-corner of the rose, The pomp of December’s wind and the majesty of the thorn is ended.

The morning of hope, that was a worshipper of the hidden screen, Say: “Come forth. For the work of the dark night is ended.”

That agitation of long nights and the heart’s grief, All, in the shade of the idol’s tress, is ended.

I still cannot believe in the bad promises of the days, The story of sorrow that with the idol’s coming, ended.

O Saki! thou showedest kindness. Be thy goblet full wine! For, by thy deliberation, the disquietude of wine-sickness is ended.

Although, into reckoning no one bringeth Hafez, Thanks that that labor, without limit and reckoning, is ended.