غزل شمارهٔ 289

The collection of beauteousness and of gracefulness is his cheek (resplendent) like the moon. But, love is not his, nor constancy. O God ! (love and constancy) give him.

My heart-ravisher is the beloved and is a child : in sport, one day, He will cruelly slay me ; and, in the shara', no sin is his.

Verily, best that from him, I guard well my heart : For, bad and good, he hath not seen ; and, of them, no knowledge hath (what he wisheth, he doeth).

From his lip like sugar, cometh a perfume of milk (betokening early childhood) : Though from the glance of his black eye trickleth blood (betokening, the slayer) .

Active and sweet, fourteen years of age, an idol, I have : Whose slave with soul is the (resplendent full) moon of fourteen days.

O Lord ! in pursuit of that rose, newly sprung, our heart Went where ? For, in this (place), some time, it, we have not seen.

If my beloved, the heart-possessor, in this way shattereth my heart (army), Quickly, for his own life-guarding, him, the king will take.

Thankfully, I sacrifice my life if that peerless pearl, Its place of rest become the shell (the socket) of the eye of Hafiz.