غزل شمارهٔ 493

O king of the lovely (the beloved) ones of the world ! for grief of being alone, justice ! Without Thee, to the soul, my heart hath come. Tis the time when thou shouldst come back; (and me safety, give).

(O Beloved !) ever joyous, remaineth not the rose of this garden of the world. At the time of powerfulness (perfection of beauty), the feeble ones aid (and their state, pity).

Last night, to the morning breeze, complaint of His tress, I uttered : The breeze said : " A mistake ! This thy distraught thought, abandon (of Him "complain not; whatever He wisheth, He doeth)."

Here with the chain (of His tress) a hundred morning breezes keep dancing : O heart ! so long as thou measurest not the wind (a thing impossible to do), this is thy companion.

Me, so far from Thee desirousness and farness made, That, from the hand, will depart the power of patience.

O Lord ! to whom is it fit to utter this subtlety that, in the world, That lovely one of every place (the true Beloved) His face displayed not.

Saki! not a colour (of decoration) hath the sward of the rose without thy face; Moving make thy box-tree (stature) so that the garden thou mayst adorn.

O (Beloved !) the pain (of love) for Thee (is) my remedy on the couch of unfulfilled desire : And O (Beloved !) Thy memory, my consoler in the corner of solitude.

In the compass of our fate, the point of the compass, are we : The favour (is) whatever Thou thinkest : the order, whatever Thou orderest.

In the world of profligacy (of being a lover of God), is neither thought of self, nor opinion of self: In this religious order, Kufr is self-seeing and self-opinioning.

On account of this blue circle (the sky), bloody of liver I am ; give wine : So that, in the enamel-cup, this difficulty I may solve.

Hafiz ! departed hath the night of separation ; come hath the sweet fragrance of morn : O lover of distraughtness ! auspicious be thy gladness.