وزنِ مفاعلن فعلاتن مفاعلن فعلن (مجتث مثمن مخبون محذوف) میں حافظ کی کتاب غزلیات

غزل شمارهٔ 2–صلاحِ کار کجا و منِ خراب کجا؟

The rectitude of work, where? and, I ruined where? Behold the distance of the Path, from where to where?

غزل شمارهٔ 4–صبا به لُطف بگو آن غزالِ رَعنا را

O breeze! with softness speak to the beautiful fawn, Saying: Thou hast given to us desire for the mountain and the desert.

غزل شمارهٔ 16–خَمی که ابرویِ شوخِ تو در کمان انداخت

The great curve that, into the bow, thy told eye-brow cast, In design of the blood of me, miserable, powerless, it cast.

غزل شمارهٔ 22–چو بشنوی سخنِ اهلِ دل، مگو که خطاست

O Heart-ravisher! thou art not a speech-recognizer. Here, the fault is: When thou hearest the speech of people of heart speak not saying: “A fault it is.”

غزل شمارهٔ 23–خیالِ رویِ تو در هر طریق همرهِ ماست

In every path of Islam, the image of Thy face fellow traveler of ours is. Ever, the perfume of Thy hair, the soul-informer of ours is.

غزل شمارهٔ 25–شکفته شد گل حَمرا و گشت بلبل مست

Blossomed is the red rose; and intoxicated is the nightingale; The invitation to merriment O Lovers, wine-worshipping!

غزل شمارهٔ 28–به جانِ خواجه و حقِ قدیم و عهدِ درست

By the Khwaja’s soul, and by ancient right, and by true covenant, That, at the breath of dawn, prayer for thy welfare is my companion.

غزل شمارهٔ 32–خدا چو صورتِ ابرویِ دلگشای تو بست

When the form of thy heart alluring eye-brow, God established. In thy glances, the solving of my work, He established.

غزل شمارهٔ 34–رَواقِ منظرِ چشمِ من آشیانهٔ توست

The chamber of vision of my eye is the dwelling of Thine: Show courtesy, and alight, for this house is the House of Thine.

غزل شمارهٔ 35–برو به کارِ خود ای واعظ این چه فریادست؟

O admonisher! Go about thy own work: what is this tumult? From the hand, my heart hath fallen: what hath befallen thee?

غزل شمارهٔ 37–بیا که قصرِ اَمَل سخت سست‌بنیادست

Come! For most unstable is the foundation of the Palace of Hope: Bring the cup; for the foundation of Life is on the wind.

غزل شمارهٔ 41–اگر چه باده فَرَح بخش و باد گُل‌بیز است

Though wine is joy exciting! and the breeze rose-enslaving, Drink not wine to the sound of the harp. For bold the Muhtaseb is.

غزل شمارهٔ 44–کُنون که بر کفِ گُل، جامِ بادهٔ صاف است

Now that in the palm of the rose, is the cup of pure wine, In it praise, is the nightingale with a hundred thousand tongues.

غزل شمارهٔ 45–در این زمانه، رفیقی که خالی از خَلَل است

At this time, a friend, who is free from defect, Is the goblet of pure wine, and the song-book.

غزل شمارهٔ 47–به کویِ میکده هر سالِکی که رَه دانست

In the Street of the tavern, every holy traveler, that knew the Path The knocking at another door, the source of ruin knew.

غزل شمارهٔ 50–به دامِ زلفِ تو دل مبتلایِ خویشتن است

In the snare of Thy tress, my heart entangled of itself is. Slay with a glance; for to it, punishment of itself is.

غزل شمارهٔ 53–منم که گوشهٔ میخانه، خانقاهِ من است

Such a one am I that the tavern-corner is the cloister of mine: The prayer from the Pir of Moghan is the morning task of mine.

غزل شمارهٔ 54–ز گریه مَردُمِ چشمم نشسته در خون است

From weeping, the pupil of my eye seated in blood is, Behold the state of men in search of Thee, how it is.

غزل شمارهٔ 58–سرِ ارادتِ ما و آستانِ حضرت دوست

The head of our desire, and the threshold of the Mighty Friend: For, whatever passeth over our head is His will.

غزل شمارهٔ 61–صبا اگر گذری اُفتَدَت به کشور دوست

O Breeze! If thy path should chance by the Land of the Friend. Bring a fragrant waft of air from the beperfumed tress of the Friend.

غزل شمارهٔ 64–اگر چه عرض هنر پیشِ یار بی‌ادبی‌ست

Since the presentation of skill before the Beloved disrespect, is The tongue, silent; yet, the mouth full of Arabia is.

غزل شمارهٔ 66–بنال بلبل اگر با مَنَت سرِ یاری‌ست

O nightingale! bewail if, the desire of being a lover with me, thine is. For, we two are, weeping lovers; and our work, weeping is.

غزل شمارهٔ 76–جُز آسْتان تواَم در جَهان، پَناهی نیست

Save Thy threshold, my shelter in the world is none. Save this door, my fortress-place is none.

غزل شمارهٔ 79–کُنون که می‌دَمَد از بوستان، نَسْیمِ بِهِشْت

Now, that the fragrant breeze of Paradise bloweth from the rose garden. I and the wine, joy-giving and the Beloved angel.

غزل شمارهٔ 88–شنیده‌ام سخنی خوش که پیرِ کنعان گفت

I heard a pleasant speech that the old man of Kan’an uttered: “Separation from the true Beloved maketh not that which can be uttered.”

غزل شمارهٔ 93–چه لطف بود که ناگاه رَشحِهٔ قَلَمَت

What kindness it was when, suddenly, the dropping of thy pen Represented the obligations of our service according to the goodness of thee.

غزل شمارهٔ 97–تویی که بر سرِ خوبانِ کشوری چون تاج

غزل شمارهٔ 98–اگر به مذهبِ تو خونِ عاشق است مُباح

غزل شمارهٔ 101–شراب و عیش نهان چیست؟ کارِ بی‌بنیاد

Wine and hidden pleasure, what are they? Baseless work. On the ranks of profligates we dashed. What is fit to be-be!

غزل شمارهٔ 106–تَنَت به نازِ طبیبان نیازمند مباد

In need of the physician’s care, thy body be not; Vexed by injury, thy tender existence be not!

غزل شمارهٔ 113–بنفشه دوش به گل گفت و خوش نشانی داد

Last night, to the rose, the violet spake; and a sweet trace gave, Saying: “In the world, me, torment a certain one’s tress gave.”

غزل شمارهٔ 114–همایِ اوجِ سعادت به دامِ ما افتد

The Homa of the height of felicity to the snare of ours falleth. If, Thy passing to the dwelling of ours falleth.

غزل شمارهٔ 116–کسی که حُسن و خَطِ دوست در نظر دارد

That one that, in his vision, the beauty of the line of the Beloved hath; Certain it is that the acquisition of vision he hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 119–دلی که غیب نمای است و جامِ جم دارد

That heart that is the hidden-displayer; and that the cup of Jamshid hath, For a seal ring, that awhile became lost, what grief it hath?

غزل شمارهٔ 122–هر آن‌که جانِبِ اَهْلِ خُدا نگه دارد

Every one, who regardeth the people of fidelity, Him, in every state, from calamity God preserveth.

غزل شمارهٔ 129–اگر نه باده غمِ دل ز یادِ ما بِبَرَد

If, the heart’s grief from our memory, the cup do not take. The foundation of our work, the anxiety of the vicissitudes will take.

غزل شمارهٔ 131–بیا که تُرکِ فلک خوانِ روزه غارت کرد

Come; for plunder of the tray of fasting, the Turk of the sky hath made: Hint at the circulation of the cup, the new crescent moon hath made.

غزل شمارهٔ 132–به آبِ روشنِ می، عارفی طهارت کرد

With the luminous liquid of wine, an Aref purification made, Early in the morning when, to the wine-house, visit he made.

غزل شمارهٔ 135–چو باد، عزمِ سرِ کویِ یار خواهم کرد

Like the wind, resolution of the head of the Beloved’s street, I will make: By His pleasant perfume, my own breath, musk-raining, I will make.

غزل شمارهٔ 144–به سِرِّ جامِ جم آنگه نظر توانی کرد

At the head of Jamshid’s cup, at that time thy glance, thou canst make, When the dust of the wine-house, the collyrium of thy eye, thou canst make.

غزل شمارهٔ 145–چه مستی است؟ ندانم که رو به ما آورد

I know not what is the intoxication that to us its face hath brought: Who is the cup-bearer? This wine, whence hath he brought?

غزل شمارهٔ 147–نسیمِ بادِ صبا دوشم آگهی آورد

Last night, news to me the messenger of the morning wind brought, Saying: “To shortness, its face, the day of labor and of grief hath brought.”

غزل شمارهٔ 155–اگر روم ز پِی‌اش فتنه‌ها برانگیزد

If after Him, I go, He up stirreth calamity: And if I sit from search, in wrath, He ariseth.

غزل شمارهٔ 156–به حسن و خُلق و وفا کس به یارِ ما نرسد

To our friend, in beauty of disposition and of fidelity, one reacheth not In this matter, to thee, denial of our work reacheth not.

غزل شمارهٔ 160–خوش است خلوت اگر یار یارِ من باشد

Pleasant is Khalvat, if my beloved, the Beloved shall be Not if I consume and the candle of assembly, He shall be.

غزل شمارهٔ 167–ستاره‌ای بدرخشید و ماهِ مجلس شد

The star gleamed; and the moon of the assembly became: Of our affrighted heart, the consoler and comforter became.

غزل شمارهٔ 168–گداخت جان که شود کارِ دل تمام و نشد

That my heart’s work should be ended, my soul melted; and it became not: In this immature wish, I consumed; and it became not.

غزل شمارهٔ 175–صبا به تهنیتِ پیرِ مِی‌فروش آمد

For the congratulation of the Pir, wine-seller, the morning-breeze came Saying: “The season of joy, and of pleasure, and of freshness, and of sweet ness is came.”

غزل شمارهٔ 177–نه هر که چهره برافروخت دلبری داند

Not every beloved one that up-kindleth his face the work of a heart-ravisher knoweth. Not every one who maketh the mirror, the work of a Eskandar knoweth.

غزل شمارهٔ 179–رسید مژده که ایّامِ غم نخواهد ماند

Arrived the glad tidings that grief’s time shall not remain: Like that remained not; like this shall not remain.