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

غزل شمارهٔ 9–رونق عهد شباب است دگر بُستان را

The splendor of youth’s time again belongeth to the garden; The glad tidings of the rose reacheth the bulbul sweet of song.

غزل شمارهٔ 17–سینه از آتش دل، در غمِ جانانه بسوخت

From the fire of my heart, my chest in grief for the Beloved consumed. In this house, was a fire, that the house consumed.

غزل شمارهٔ 18–ساقیا آمدنِ عید، مبارک بادت

O Saki! be the coming of the new year auspicious to thee: And these promises thou madest, let them not go from thy memory.

غزل شمارهٔ 19–ای نسیمِ سحر آرامگَهِ یار کجاست؟

O fragrant morning breeze! The Beloved’s rest-place is where? The dwelling of that Moon, Lover-slayer, Sorcerer, is where?

غزل شمارهٔ 20–روزه یک‌سو شد و عید آمد و دل‌ها برخاست

The fast a side hath gone; and the Id hath come; and hearts have risen: In the wine-house, the wine hath come into tumult; and it is necessary to ask.

غزل شمارهٔ 21–دل و دینم شد و دلبر به ملامت برخاست

Went heart and faith; and the Heart-Ravisher with reproach arose, And said: “Sit not with me; for, from thee, safety hath risen.”

غزل شمارهٔ 24–مطلب طاعت و پیمان و صلاح از من مست

From me intoxicated, is the desire of devotion and of covenant, and of rectitude; For, in Eternity without beginning, I became renowned for wine-drinking.

غزل شمارهٔ 26–زلف‌آشفته و خِوی‌کرده و خندان‌لب و مست

Tress dishevelled; sweat expressed; lip laughing; intoxicated; Garment rent; song-singing; goblet in His hand;

غزل شمارهٔ 36–تا سرِ زلفِ تو در دستِ نسیم افتادست

Since thy tress-tip, into the power of the breeze, fell, My distraught heart, into two pieces on account of grief, fell.

غزل شمارهٔ 48–صوفی از پرتو مِی رازِ نهانی دانست

From the wine’s sparkle, the Sufi knew the hidden mystery: Every one’s essence, by this ruby thou canst know.

غزل شمارهٔ 49–روضهٔ خُلدِ برین خلوتِ درویشان است

The garden of lofty Paradise is the retreat of Darvishes: Grandeur’s source is the service of Darvishes.

غزل شمارهٔ 51–لَعْلِ سیرابِ به‌خون‌تشنه‌، لَبِ یارِ من است

The fresh ruby, thirsty for blood the ruby lip of the Beloved of mine is Yet for seeing Him, life-surrendering the work of mine is.

غزل شمارهٔ 52–روزْگاری‌ست که سودایِ بُتان، دینِ من است

‘Tis a time since the passion for idols was my faith: The pain of this work, the joy of the sorrowful heart of mine is.

غزل شمارهٔ 57–آن سیه‌چَرده که شیرینیِ عالَم با اوست

This blackish one, all the sweetness of the world is with him. The fair eye, the laughing lip, the joyous heart is with Him.

غزل شمارهٔ 67–یا رب این شمع دل‌افروز ز کاشانهٔ کیست؟

O Lord! that candle, night-illuminating, from the house of whom is? Our soul hath consumed. Ask ye, saying: “She, the beloved, of whom is?”

غزل شمارهٔ 68–ماهم این هفته برون رفت و به چشمم سالی‌ست

From the city, my moon went this week; to my eye a year it is: The state of separation what knowest thou how difficult the state is?

غزل شمارهٔ 70–مردم دیدهٔ ما جز به رُخَت ناظر نیست

A gazer, save upon Thy face, the pupil of our eye is not. A remembrancer save of Thee, our overturned heart is not.

غزل شمارهٔ 73–روشن از پرتوِ رویت نظری نیست که نیست

From the ray of Thy face, luminous a glance is not. that is not: The favor of the dust of Thy door, on an eye is not, that is not.

غزل شمارهٔ 74–حاصلِ کارگه کون و مکان این همه نیست

The produce of the workshop of existence and dwelling all this is naught; Bring wine. For the goods of the world all this is naught.

غزل شمارهٔ 75–خوابِ آن نرگسِ فَتّانِ تو، بی چیزی نیست

غزل شمارهٔ 80–عِیبِ رِندان مَکُن ای زاهدِ پاکیزه‌سِرِشت!

O Zahed, pure of nature! censure not the profligates; For, against thee, they will not record another’s crime.

غزل شمارهٔ 81–صُبْحْدَم، مُرْغِ چَمَن با گلِ نوخاسْتِه گُفْت

At dawn, the bird of the sward spake to the rose: “Display less disdain; for, in this garden many a one like thee hath blossomed.”

غزل شمارهٔ 85–شربتی از لبِ لعلش نچشیدیم و بِرَفت

From His lip of ruby, a draft we tasted not; and He departed: His face, moon of form, we beheld not to our fill; and He departed.

غزل شمارهٔ 105–صوفی ار باده به اندازه خورَد نوشش باد

If, to limit, the Sufi drink wine to him, sweet may it be! If not, the thought of this work of his, forgotten be!

غزل شمارهٔ 108–خسروا گویِ فلک در خَمِ چوگان تو باد

O Lord! the ball of the sky in the curve of the polo of thine be: The place of existence and of dwelling the space of the plain of thine be!

غزل شمارهٔ 111–عکسِ رویِ تو چو در آینهٔ جام افتاد

When, into the mirror of the cup, the reflection of Thy face fell, From the laughter of wine, into the crude desire of the cup, the Aref fell.

غزل شمارهٔ 112–آن که رخسارِ تو را رنگِ گل و نسرین داد

Who, to thy cheek, the hue of the rose and of the wild rose gave, To me, miserable, patience and ease, can give.

غزل شمارهٔ 123–مطربِ عشق عجب ساز و نوایی دارد

Wonderful harmony and great melody, my minstrel of love hath: Every picture of the hidden that he striketh, path to place hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 124–آن که از سُنبُلِ او، غالیه تابی دارد

That one, from whose hyacinth lock, a great torment, ambergris hath. Again, with those heart-gone, grace and reproach hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 125–شاهد آن نیست که موییّ و میانی دارد

That one is not the beloved, who hath a hair and a waist: Be the slave of the form of that one who, ravishingness to the highest degree, hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 128–نیست دَر شهر نگاری که دلِ ما بِبَرَد

In this city is no idol that, our heart, taketh: If fortune be my friend, hence my chattels, it taketh.

غزل شمارهٔ 134–بلبلی خونِ دلی خورد و گلی حاصل کرد

A nightingale drank the blood of the liver, and gained a rose: With a hundred thorns, perturbed his heart, the wind of, envy made.

غزل شمارهٔ 136–دست در حلقهٔ آن زلفِ دوتا نتوان کرد

Into the curve of that doubled tress, the hand one cannot put: Reliance on Thy covenant and the morning breeze, one cannot make.

غزل شمارهٔ 138–یاد باد آن که ز ما وقتِ سفر یاد نکرد

Memory be of that one, who, at the time of journeying memory of us made not: Who, by farewell, joyous our grief-stricken heart made not.

غزل شمارهٔ 141–دیدی ای دل که غمِ عشق دگربار چه کرد؟

O heart! the grief of love, again, thou sawest what it did, When the heart-ravisher went; and with the beloved, fidelity-observing, what it did.

غزل شمارهٔ 142–دوستان دخترِ رَز توبه ز مستوری کرد

Friends! repentance of veiledness, the daughter of the vine made: To the Mohtaseb she went; and by permission the work made.

غزل شمارهٔ 143–سال‌ها دل طلبِ جامِ جم از ما می‌کرد

Search for the cup of Jamshid from me, years my heart made. And for what it possessed, from a stranger, entreaty made.

غزل شمارهٔ 150–ساقی ار باده از این دست به جام اندازد

If the Saki the wine into the cup, in this way cast All the Arefs into ever drinking, He will cast.

غزل شمارهٔ 152–در ازل پرتوِ حُسنت ز تجلی دَم زد

In eternity without beginning, of glory, the splendor-ray of Thy beauty boasted. Revealed became love; and, upon all the world, fire dashed.

غزل شمارهٔ 157–هر که را با خطِ سبزت سرِ سودا باشد

Desire of passion for Thy fresh down to whomsoever, shall be: Forth from the circle he planteth not his foot, so long as he shall be.

غزل شمارهٔ 158–من و انکارِ شراب! این چه حکایت باشد؟

I and refusal of wine! What a tale this is! Doubtless, this degree of reason mine; and sufficient is.

غزل شمارهٔ 159–نقدِ صوفی نه همه صافیِ بی‌غَش باشد

Not all purity without alloy is the coat of the Sufi; O many a Khirka, that is worthy of the fire!

غزل شمارهٔ 164–نفسِ بادِ صبا مُشک‌فشان خواهد شد

Musk-diffusing, the breath of the morning breeze shall be: Again the world old young shall be.

غزل شمارهٔ 166–روزِ هجران و شبِ فُرقَتِ یار آخر شد

“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.

غزل شمارهٔ 173–در نمازم خَمِ ابرویِ تو با یاد آمد

When, in prayer, to me recollection of the curve of Thy eye-brow came. A state passed that, into lament, the prayer-arch came.

غزل شمارهٔ 174–مژده ای دل که دگر بادِ صبا بازآمد

O heart! glad tidings that the morning breeze hath come back, From the quarters of Saba the lap-wing of good news hath come back.

غزل شمارهٔ 176–سَحَرم دولتِ بیدار به بالین آمد

In the morning, to my pillow, vigilant fortune came: Said: Arise! For that thy dear Khosro hath come.

غزل شمارهٔ 178–هر که شد مَحرمِ دل در حرمِ یار بِمانْد

Whoever became the confidant of his own heart, in the sacred fold of the Beloved remained: He, who knew not this matter, in ignorance remained.

غزل شمارهٔ 181–بعد از این دستِ من و دامنِ آن سروِ بلند

غزل شمارهٔ 182–حَسْبِ حالی نَنِوِشتی و شد ایّامی چند

Thou wrotest not the account of thy state; and, passed some time: Where a confidant so that to thee, I may send some message?