غزل شمارهٔ 89

O Lord! devise a means, whereby in safety my Beloved May come back, and release me from the claw of reproach.

Bring ye the dust of the Path of that traveled Beloved That I may make my world-seeing eye His sojourn-place.

Justice! For, they have barred my Path on six sides That mole, beard, tress, face, cheek, and stature.

To-day, when I am in thy hand, show a little mercy. To-morrow, when I become clay, what profit are tears of repentance?

O thou that of love expressest breath in relating and explaining, With thee no word have we save this “Prosperity and safety be thine!”

Darvish! Lament not of the sword of friends; For this band taketh the blood-price for the slain.

Set fire to the religious garment; for the curve of the Saki’s eye-brow Shattereth the corner of the prayer-arch of the service of the Imam.

God forbid that of thy violence and tyranny I should bewail: The injustice of dainty ones is all daintiness and goodness.

The argument of thy tress-tip, Hafez shorteneth not: This chain is joined to the day of resurrection.