غزل شمارهٔ 461

The tale of my desire, I wrote ; and weeping was my eye: Come ; for, through sorrowfulness without thee, I am ready to die.

Through desire, to my two eyes, much I have said : "O dwellings of Salma ! thy Salma is where ? "

'Tis a strange event and a wonderful occurrence this, Afflicted, was I ; and in the (palpitating, quivering, fluttering) state of one slain. (Yet, against me), the slayer was complainer.

Reacheth to whom (the power) that, at thy pure skirt, he should carp ? For, like the (dew-) drop that, on the rose-leaf droppeth, pure thou art.

From the dust of thy foot, it gave honour to the tulip and to the rose, When creation's reed wrote the decree on the watery and the dusty.

O Saki ! arise ; ambergris-scattering, hath become the breeze ; Bring the juice of the grape, (wine) perfumed and pure (the antidote of the lover's poison).

Idleness, abandon ; successful, thou shalt be. For the proverb is : "The road-provision of way-farers is alertness and expertness."

Without (seeing) thy praised qualities, trace of me remaineth not. Yes ; From thy face (O Salma ! ), I behold the traces of life !

Of the description of thy beauty, how may Hafiz speak? For, like the divine qualities, beyond comprehension, thou art.