غزل شمارهٔ 341

For the reproof of the adversaries if I care, Lustre, taketh not my way of profligacy and of intoxication.

The austerity of profligates (disciples and seekers of God), path newly learned, is fruitless : I, who am the ill name of the world, what remedy (for it) may I devise ?

Me, resourceless (of wisdom), king of those distraught of head, call On that account that, in being one of little wisdom, greater than all the world I am.

(O true Beloved !) on Thy forehead with my heart's blood, a great mole depict : So that they (men) may know that, sacrifice for Thee, kafir of religion, I am.

Trust, display ; and for God's sake, pass on : So that thou mayst know, in this khirka what a no-darvish I am.

O breeze ! my blood-raining verse utter to the Friend, Who, me, on life's great vein, with His black eye-lash, lanced.

Whether I be profligate or whether shaikh (Pir), to any one my work is what? Of my own mystery Hafiz ; and of my time, the Arif, I am.