غزل شمارهٔ 258

Thanks a thousand, that, again, to my desire, I beheld thee, In truth and purity, concordant with my heart, become.

The Path of calamity, tread the travellers of hakikat ! Of the descent and of the ascent, reflecteth not the companion of the Path (tarikat).

Better than search for the watcher, is grief for the hidden Friend (God) : For, not the confidant of mystery is the heart of the Lord of malice.

Independent of love, though Thy beauty is, Not that one am I who, from this love-playing, back will turn.

To Thee, how may I utter what, from the burning of my heart, I behold ? Of my tears, ask the tale ; for not the informer am I.

For this thanks that, by the Friend, the assembly is illuminated : If an act of tyranny reach thee, like the candle, consume and be content.

The desire of beauty's glance is (his). If not, is no need Of the tress of Ayaz to the beauty of Mahmud's fortune.

The ghazal-singing of Nahid (Venus, the minstrel of the sky) taketh not the lead. In that place, where forth his voice (of song) Hafiz bringeth.