غزل شمارهٔ 23

In every path of Islam, the image of Thy face fellow traveler of ours is. Ever, the perfume of Thy hair, the soul-informer of ours is.

In grief of those claimants, who forbid love, The beauty of Thy face, the approved argument of ours is.

Behold, what saith the apple of Thy chin! “Many a Yusuf of Egypt fallen into the pit, of ours is.”

If to our hand reach not Thy long tress, The sin of the perturbed fortune, and of the short-hand of ours is.

To the chamberlain of the door of the private chamber, say: “Of those corner-sitting, a certain one, the dust of the court of Ours is.

Although, apparently, He is veiled from our sight, He, ever, in the sight of the tranquil heart, of ours is.

If, as a beggar, Hafez knock that door, open: For, it is years since he, desirous of the moon-like face of Ours was.