غزل شمارهٔ 158

I and refusal of wine! What a tale this is! Doubtless, this degree of reason mine; and sufficient is.

Up to the last, I knew not the path to the wine-house: If not, to what an extent our austerity is.

The Zahed, and haughtiness, and prayer; and I, and intoxication, and supplication: Let us see, with whom of these, Thy favor indeed is.

If the Zahed take not the path to profligacy, he is excused, Love is a work, that dependent on the guidance is.

I, who nights, with the drum and the harp, have dashed down the path of piety I, suddenly, bring my head to the path! What a tale this is!

I am the slave of the Pir of the Magians, who releaseth me from ignorance, Whatever our Pir doeth, the essence of friendly assistance is.

Last night, I slept not on account of this thought that a sage uttered: “If Hafez be intoxicated, room for complaint is.”