غزل شمارهٔ 343

Passed have forty years and more since I expressed this boast: " Of the servants of the Pir of the Magians, the least am I."

Ever by the felicity of the favour of the Pir, the wine-seller, Empty of wine, pure and luminous, became not the cup of mine.

In the majesty of love, and in the fortune of profligates, pure-players, Ever the chief seat of the wine-houses was the abode' . of mine.

For dreg-drinking, bear not an ill opinion of me (Hafiz), For, (with wine) the khirka is stained ; but pure of skirt am I.

The (mighty) falcon of the King's hand am I. O Lord ! in what way, From my recollection, have they taken the desire of the dwelling of mine ?

A great bulbul like me, in such a sward, pity 'tis, That, with this sweet tongue (verse), silent like the (ten-tongued) lily am I.

A wonderful cherisher of the mean is the water and the air of Persia: A fellow way-farer, where, that, from this land, my tent, up-pluck I may ?

Hafiz ! beneath (the guise of) the khirka, how long drinketh thou the goblet? (God willing!) at the Khwaja's banquet, the veil from thy work (of drinking), upcast will I.

The auspicious Turan King, who, towards me, increased his favour ; The favour of his gifts became the collar of the neck. of mine.