غزل شمارهٔ 44
Toggle stanza 1کُنون که بر کفِ گُل، جامِ بادهٔ صاف است
Now that in the palm of the rose, is the cup of pure wine, In it praise, is the nightingale with a hundred thousand tongues.
Seek the book of verse and make way to the desert: What time is this for the College, and the argument of the Kashf-i-Kashshaf?
Yesterday, the Head of the College was intoxicated; and gave decision, Saying: “Wine is unlawful, but better than the property of legacies.”
No order is thine for the dregs, or for the pure: Drink happily; For, whatever our Said did is the essence of grace.
Pluck up thy attachments to the people: take note of the work from the Anka; For, the clamour of those sitting in solitude is from Kaf to Kaf.
The tale of claimants and the fancy of thy fellow-workers, Resemble the tale of the gold-stitcher and the mat-weaver.
Hafez! silence: and these subtleties like red gold, Keep. For the false coiner of the city is the Banker.
زمین

