غزل شمارهٔ 55
Toggle stanza 1خَمِ زلفِ تو دامِ کفر و دین است
11
خَمِ زلفِ تو دامِ کفر و دین است
ز کارستانِ او یک شمه این است
The curve of Thy tress is the snare of infidelity and of Faith: This matter is a little from His work-shop.
22
جمالت مُعجِزِ حُسن است لیکن
حدیثِ غمزهات سحرِ مبین است
Thy beauty is the miracle of beauty. But, The tale of Thy glance is clear magic.
33
ز چشمِ شوخِ تو جان کی توان برد؟
که دایم با کمان اندر کمین است
How can one take one’s life from Thy bold eye, That ever is in ambuscade with the bow?
44
بر آن چشمِ سیه صد آفرین باد
که در عاشق کُشی سِحرآفرین است
Be a hundred Afarin! on that dark eye, Which, in lover-slaying is the creator of magic.
55
عجب عِلمیست عِلم هیئت عشق
که چرخِ هشتمش، هفتم زمین است
A wonderful science is the science of love’s form: For the seventh sky is the seventh land.
66
تو پنداری که بدگو رفت و جان برد؟
حسابش با کرام الکاتبین است
Thou thinkest not that the evil-speaker departed, and took his life: His account is with the two noble recorders.
77
مشو حافظ ز کیدِ زلفش ایمن
که دل برد و کنون در بندِ دین است
Hafez! be not secure from the snare of His tress. That taketh the heart; and is now in fancy religion.