غزل شمارهٔ 165

As for me, out of my head, love for those dark of eye will not go: This is the sky’s decree; and other way, it will not be.

The watcher tormented, and abandoned not the place of peace: Perchance, moving towards the sphere, the sigh of morning-risers will not be.

On the day of eternity without beginning, they ordered me no work save profligacy; Every partition of destiny that here passed, more than it, will not be.

O Mohtaseb! for God’s sake, pardon us for the clamour of drum and of reed; For, with this idle tale without canon, the requirements of the shara will not be.

This is my power that, secretly, I practice love for Him: The bosom, the kiss, and the embrace, of these, how shall I speak, since they will not be?

The ruby-wine, and the place of safety, and the Saki, kind friend, O heart! better, when becometh thy work if now it will not be?

O eye! wash not grief’s picture from the tablet of Hafez’s heart: For it is the Heart-Possessor’s sword-wound; and, the blood-color will not go.