غزل شمارهٔ 437

O thou, of whose street, (only) a tale is the tale of paradise ; And of whose face, (only) a sign is the description of the beauty of the Hur.

From thy ruby lip, (only) a jest is (the life-giving) breathing of 'Isa ; And, from, thy sweet mouth, only a sign (is) the water of life.

(Together are) every fragment of my heart and a tale of grief ; (Together are) every line of thy qualities, and a verse of mercy.

'Itr-diffuser of the assembly of souls, when would it (the rose) have been, If, to the rose, thy perfume, thou hadst not entrusted?

In desire of the dust of the Friend's path, I consumed, O morning breeze ! bring to mind that even a little protection thou gavest not.

O heart ! in absurd knowledge (thou wast) ; and from the hand, life passed ; A hundred sources (of capital) thou hadst ; and a sufficiency, thou madest not.

Took the horizons (of the world), the perfume of my roasted (grief-stricken) heart ; This consuming of my heart, (into the beloved's heart) may penetrate.

If, in the fire, appear the form of thy (lovely) face Saki! come (and give wine); for (even) of hell, no complaint (then) is mine.

From this lesson of grief, Hafiz's desire, what it is, thou knowest ; From thee (O murshid !) a glance (of kindness) ; and from the Khusrau (God) the bounty (of pardon).