غزل شمارهٔ 87

By concord with darkish beauty, the world Thy beauty took. Yes; by concord, the world one can take.

The revealing of the mysteries of the Khilvatis, the candle wished to make: Thanks to God! that its tongue, the heart’s desire kindled.

From out of this concealed fire that is in my chest, A flame is the sun that the sky, kindled.

The rose wished to boast of the color and the perfume of the Friend: In jealousy of it, its breath, in its mouth the breeze took.

Rested apart, I was like the compass: At last, me, into the center, like a point, Time took.

Desire of the cup of wine consumed my harvest that day, When, from the reflection of the Saki’s cheek, fire kindled.

To the street of the magians, I wish to go, shaking my sleeve, Of these calamities, that, the skirt of time’s end took.

Drink wine. For, whoever, at the end of work, beheld the world, From grief, came forth light; and, the heavy cup of wine, took.

With the blood of tulips, on the rose-leaf, they have written Saying: “Wine like the ruddy Arghavan that one, who became mature, took.”

Hafez! like water, grace trickleth from thy verse: On it, nice distinction, the envious one how took?