صداکار افسر آریا کی آڈیوز میں حافظ کی کتاب غزلیات

غزل شمارهٔ 38–بی مِهرِ رُخَت روزِ مرا نور نماندست

Without the sun of Thy cheek, light for my day, hath remained not And of my life, save the blackest night, aught hath remained not.

غزل شمارهٔ 41–اگر چه باده فَرَح بخش و باد گُل‌بیز است

Though wine is joy exciting! and the breeze rose-enslaving, Drink not wine to the sound of the harp. For bold the Muhtaseb is.

غزل شمارهٔ 42–حالِ دل با تو گفتنم، هوس است

To utter to thee the state of my heart is my desire: To hear news of my heart is my desire.

غزل شمارهٔ 44–کُنون 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.

غزل شمارهٔ 46–گُل در بَر و مِی در کَف و معشوق به کام است

The rose is in the bosom; wine in the hand; and the Beloved to my desire, On such a day, the world’s Sultan is my slave.

غزل شمارهٔ 48–صوفی از پرتو مِی رازِ نهانی دانست

From the wine’s sparkle, the Sufi knew the hidden mystery: Every one’s essence, by this ruby thou canst know.

غزل شمارهٔ 49–روضهٔ خُلدِ برین خلوتِ درویشان است

The garden of lofty Paradise is the retreat of Darvishes: Grandeur’s source is the service of Darvishes.

غزل شمارهٔ 50–به دامِ زلفِ تو دل مبتلایِ خویشتن است

In the snare of Thy tress, my heart entangled of itself is. Slay with a glance; for to it, punishment of itself is.

غزل شمارهٔ 64–اگر چه عرض هنر پیشِ یار بی‌ادبی‌ست

Since the presentation of skill before the Beloved disrespect, is The tongue, silent; yet, the mouth full of Arabia is.

غزل شمارهٔ 68–ماهم این هفته برون رفت و به چشمم سالی‌ست

From the city, my moon went this week; to my eye a year it is: The state of separation what knowest thou how difficult the state is?

غزل شمارهٔ 70–مردم دیدهٔ ما جز به رُخَت ناظر نیست

A gazer, save upon Thy face, the pupil of our eye is not. A remembrancer save of Thee, our overturned heart is not.

غزل شمارهٔ 73–روشن از پرتوِ رویت نظری نیست که نیست

From the ray of Thy face, luminous a glance is not. that is not: The favor of the dust of Thy door, on an eye is not, that is not.

غزل شمارهٔ 75–خوابِ آن نرگسِ فَتّانِ تو، بی چیزی نیست

غزل شمارهٔ 76–جُز آسْتان تواَم در جَهان، پَناهی نیست

Save Thy threshold, my shelter in the world is none. Save this door, my fortress-place is none.

غزل شمارهٔ 78–دیدی که یار، جُز سَرِ جور و سِتَم نَداشت

Thou sawest that, save the desire of violence and of tyranny, my beloved aught had not. He shattered the covenant; and, on account of our grief, grief had not.

غزل شمارهٔ 79–کُنون که می‌دَمَد از بوستان، نَسْیمِ بِهِشْت

Now, that the fragrant breeze of Paradise bloweth from the rose garden. I and the wine, joy-giving and the Beloved angel.

غزل شمارهٔ 83–گر ز دستِ زلفِ مُشکینت خطایی رفت رفت

If from the hand of Thy musky tress, a fault passed, it passed: And, if against us from Thy dark mole, an act of tyranny passed, it passed.

غزل شمارهٔ 84–ساقی بیار باده که ماهِ صیام رفت

O Saki! bring wine; for the fasting month hath passed. Give the goblet; for the season of name and fame hath passed.

غزل شمارهٔ 85–شربتی از لبِ لعلش نچشیدیم و بِرَفت

From His lip of ruby, a draft we tasted not; and He departed: His face, moon of form, we beheld not to our fill; and He departed.

غزل شمارهٔ 86–ساقی بیا که یار ز رخ پرده برگرفت

Saki! come; for the true Beloved hath taken up the veil, The work of the lamp of the Khilvatis again kindled.

غزل شمارهٔ 91–ای غایب از نظر به خدا می‌سپارمت

O hidden from sight! to God, I entrust, thee. Thou consumedest my soul; yet with heart, friend I hold thee.

غزل شمارهٔ 92–میرِ من خوش می‌روی کاندر سر و پا میرمت

غزل شمارهٔ 93–چه لطف بود که ناگاه رَشحِهٔ قَلَمَت

What kindness it was when, suddenly, the dropping of thy pen Represented the obligations of our service according to the goodness of thee.

غزل شمارهٔ 95–مدامم مست می‌دارد نسیمِ جَعدِ گیسویت

Ever intoxicated keepeth me the waft of air of the tress-curl of Thine. Momently ruined maketh me the deceit of the eye of sorcery of Thine.

غزل شمارهٔ 96–دردِ ما را نیست درمان الغیاث

غزل شمارهٔ 97–تویی که بر سرِ خوبانِ کشوری چون تاج

غزل شمارهٔ 98–اگر به مذهبِ تو خونِ عاشق است مُباح

غزل شمارهٔ 99–دلِ من در هوایِ روی فرخ

My heart, in desire of the face of Farrukh, Is in confusion like the hair of Farrukh.

غزل شمارهٔ 100–دی پیر می‌فروش که ذکرش به خیر باد

Yesterday, the Pir, the wine-seller whose mention be for good! Said: “Drink wine; and, from recollection, take the heart’s grief.”

غزل شمارهٔ 101–شراب و عیش نهان چیست؟ کارِ بی‌بنیاد

Wine and hidden pleasure, what are they? Baseless work. On the ranks of profligates we dashed. What is fit to be-be!

غزل شمارهٔ 102–دوش آگهی ز یارِ سفر کرده داد باد

Last night, the news of the beloved, journey-made, gave the wind: To the wind, I also give my heart. Whatever it be-be.

غزل شمارهٔ 103–روز وصلِ دوستداران یاد باد

The day of union of friends remember: Those times, remember, remember!

غزل شمارهٔ 104–جمالت آفتابِ هر نظر باد

The sun of every vision, Thy beauty be More beautiful than the beauty, Thy beautiful face be.

غزل شمارهٔ 105–صوفی ار باده به اندازه خورَد نوشش باد

If, to limit, the Sufi drink wine to him, sweet may it be! If not, the thought of this work of his, forgotten be!

غزل شمارهٔ 108–خسروا گویِ فلک در خَمِ چوگان تو باد

O Lord! the ball of the sky in the curve of the polo of thine be: The place of existence and of dwelling the space of the plain of thine be!

غزل شمارهٔ 110–پیرانه سَرم عشقِ جوانی به سر افتاد

Elderly of head, into my head youthful love, hath fallen: And that mystery that, in the heart, I concealed, out hath fallen.

غزل شمارهٔ 111–عکسِ رویِ تو چو در آینهٔ جام افتاد

When, into the mirror of the cup, the reflection of Thy face fell, From the laughter of wine, into the crude desire of the cup, the Aref fell.

غزل شمارهٔ 113–بنفشه دوش به گل گفت و خوش نشانی داد

Last night, to the rose, the violet spake; and a sweet trace gave, Saying: “In the world, me, torment a certain one’s tress gave.”

غزل شمارهٔ 115–درختِ دوستی بنشان که کامِ دل به بار آرد

Plant the tree of friendship, that, to fruit, the heart’s desire bringeth: Up-pluck the bush of enmity, that countless troubles bringeth.

غزل شمارهٔ 116–کسی که حُسن و خَطِ دوست در نظر دارد

That one that, in his vision, the beauty of the line of the Beloved hath; Certain it is that the acquisition of vision he hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 118–آن کس که به دست جام دارد

That one who, in his hand the cup hath. Ever the sovereignty of Jamshid hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 119–دلی که غیب نمای است و جامِ جم دارد

That heart that is the hidden-displayer; and that the cup of Jamshid hath, For a seal ring, that awhile became lost, what grief it hath?

غزل شمارهٔ 120–بتی دارم که گِرد گل ز سُنبل سایه‌بان دارد

I have an idol that, the canopy of the hyacinth around the rose hath: A line in the blood of the Arghavan, the spring of his cheek hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 121–هر آن کاو خاطِرِ مَجموع و یارِ نازنین دارد

Every one, who, his heart collected and the beloved acceptable hath, Happiness became his fellow-companion; and fortune, his fellow-sitter, he hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 124–آن که از سُنبُلِ او، غالیه تابی دارد

That one, from whose hyacinth lock, a great torment, ambergris hath. Again, with those heart-gone, grace and reproach hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 125–شاهد آن نیست که موییّ و میانی دارد

That one is not the beloved, who hath a hair and a waist: Be the slave of the form of that one who, ravishingness to the highest degree, hath.

غزل شمارهٔ 126–جان، بی‌جمالِ جانان میلِ جهان ندارد

Without the Beloved’s beauty, inclination for the world, my soul hath not: O God, every one who this hath not, that hath not.

غزل شمارهٔ 128–نیست دَر شهر نگاری که دلِ ما بِبَرَد

In this city is no idol that, our heart, taketh: If fortune be my friend, hence my chattels, it taketh.

غزل شمارهٔ 129–اگر نه باده غمِ دل ز یادِ ما بِبَرَد

If, the heart’s grief from our memory, the cup do not take. The foundation of our work, the anxiety of the vicissitudes will take.

غزل شمارهٔ 130–سحر بلبل حکایت با صبا کرد

In the morning, the nightingale told a tale to the east wind, Saying: for us what love for the face of the rose made.