غزل شمارهٔ 320

Last night, with a torrent of tears, sleep's path, I dashed : In memory of Thy down, a (vanishing) picture on water, I dashed.

In my view, the Friend's eye-brow; and the consumed khirka : To the memory of the corner of Thy prayer-arch (eye-brow), a cup I dashed.

Every bird of thought, that, from the tip of joy's branch, flew, Again, to the snare of Thy curl, it, I dashed.

In my sight, the form of the idol (the true Beloved) displayed grandeur ; From afar, on the cheek of the moon, a kiss, I dashed.

On the Saki's face, my eye ; on the harp's wail, my ear; In this matter, with eye and ear, an omen (of what will be revealed), I dashed.

Till morning-dawn, the picture of the fancy of Thy face, On the workshop of my sleepless eye, I dashed.

To the words of this ghazal, the cup uptook my Saki : This song, I uttered ; and pure wine, I dashed.

Happy, was the time of Hafiz ; and an omen of object and of desire, In respect of (long) life, and of (great) fortune of friends, I dashed.