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(Translated from the Persian by John Payne. 1901)
LIII 1. Whose dwelling, Lord, by yonder heart-Enkindling taper’s lit? | |
| Our soul’s afire! For God’s sake, ask Whose soul’s delight is it. | |
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| 2. I wonder in whose arms she lies And who her housemates be, | |
| She who the edifice o’erthrown Hath of my faith and wit! | |
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| 3. Whose soul’s delight is yonder wine Of rubies of her lip? | 5 |
| Unto whose cup for cupgiver Did Fortune her commit? | |
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| 4. Each at her casteth spells of love; But to whose sorceries | |
| Her dainty heart inclining is, None knoweth anywhit. | |
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| 5. O Lord, yon queenlike mooncheeked maid, Yon Venus-fronted fair, | |
| Whose peerless pearl is she, whose gem Past value exquisite? | 10 |
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| 6. That fair whose ruby wine, undrunk, Hath made me drunk and mad, | |
| For whom doth she the goblet fill? In whose assembly sit? | |
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| 7. Ask ye, ’fore God, to whom the bliss Of the companionship | |
| Of yonder candle of delight Hath Destiny forewrit? | |
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| 8. “Alack, for Hafiz’ heart distraught,” Quoth I, “withouten thee!” | 15 |
| She answered, with a covert smile, “For whom distraught is it?” | |
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CXXXVI 1. “Thy mouth and thy lip,” I asked her, “Me blest when will they make?” | |
| “Thy bidding in all,” she answered, “Shift to fulfil they make.” | |
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| 2. “Thy lips for a kiss the tribute Of Egypt seek,” said I. | |
| Quoth she, “At that rate who purchase, No bargain ill they make.” | 20 |
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| 3. “To the point of thy mouth who findeth The way?” quoth I; and she, | |
| “That known to the subtlety-kenners, Not those lack-skill, They make.” | |
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| 4. Quoth I, “Be no server of idols; Abide thou with God,” and she, | |
| “Their wont this and that in Love’s quarter, The good and the ill, they make.” | |
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| 5. Quoth I, “Lo, the air of the winehouse Doth grief from the heart away;” | 25 |
| And she, “Happy folk, if one bosom With gladness to thrill they make!” | |
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| 6. Quoth I, “Wine and patchcoat the canon Allows not”; and she, “In the sect | |
| “Of the Magians, of one and the other Their habitude still they make.” | |
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| 7. Quoth I, “From the sweet-lipped ones’ ruby What profit the old?” And she, | |
| “The old young again with the sugar Their kisses distil they make.” | 30 |
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| 8. Quoth I, “To the nuptial chamber When cometh the lord?” And she, | |
| “’Twill not be, the Moon in conjunction With Jupiter till They make.” | |
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CCCCV 1. This my love for thee, my fair one, On what wise shall I assain? | |
| Yea, how long shall I of sorrow For thy sake all night complain? | |
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| 2. Long ago past hope of healing Is my frenzied heart become: | 35 |
| Peradventure, of thy tress-tip I may fashion it a chain. | |
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| 3. Scope where shall I find and leisure, So the full perplexity, | |
| Which I suffer for thy tress-tip, Once for all I may explain? | |
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| 4. What I suffered in the season Of estrangement from thy sight, | |
| ’Twere impossible one letter Should the whole of it contain. | 40 |
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| 5. On my soul to look whenever I’m desirous, in mine eye | |
| Still to conjure up the image Of thy lovely cheek I’m fain. | |
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| 6. If I knew that thine enjoyment Should thereby to me betide, | |
| Heart and faith would I surrender, Ay, and count the loss a gain. | |
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| 7. Get thee gone from us, o preacher; Leave this idle prate of thine: | 45 |
| None am I who unto leasing Ear will any longer deign. | |
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| 8. Of deliverance from lewdness, Hope, o Hafiz, is there none: | |
| Since ’twas thus of Fate foreordered, Care and counsel are in vain. | |
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CCCCXIV 1. Enamoured am I of a fair one, A youngling new a-blow; | |
| I’ve sought it with prayer from heaven, The gladness of this woe. | 50 |
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| 2. Whoremonger, amorist, toper, I tell thee outright, I am; | |
| So thou, that with all these merits Endowed I am, mayst know. | |
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| 3. Now shame of my sin-soiled cassock Is over me come, whereon | |
| I, patch upon patch, devices An hundred still did sew. | |
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| 4. Yes, well mayst thou burn, o candle, In passion for her! For see, | 55 |
| Upstanding in that same business, Loin-girt, am I e’enso. | |
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| 5. The profit of my endeavour, In this my bewilderment, | |
| I’ve lost: as in heart and spirit I dwindle, in grief I grow. | |
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| 6. So haply that new-blown charmer May me to her bosom draw, | |
| To the tavern, with robe (like Hafiz) All open in front I go. 1 | 60 |
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DXXXIV 1. Since in Irác Suléima made her station, | |
| I long for her with longing past relation. | |
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| 2. Hark ye, O leader of the Loved One’s camels, | |
| After thy charge I yearn without cessation. | |
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| 3. For lack of the Friend’s sight my heart a-bleed is: | 65 |
| Oh out upon the days of separation! | |
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| 4. Cast reason to the Zindehroud 2 and tipple | |
| Wine to the young Irakis’ acclamation. | |
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| 5. Mistrel sweet-voiced, sweet-spoken, come; in Persian | |
| Verse, chant thou to Iraki modulation. | 70 |
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| 6. The ghittern’s sound And cupbearer’s hand-clapping | |
| Bring back lost youth to my rememoration. | |
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| 7. Give me the wine-dregs, so that, drunk and blithesome, | |
| I of life’s dregs to friends may make oblation. | |
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| 8. Come, give me, cupbearer, the heavy pottle, | 75 |
| God fill to thee the goblet of salvation! | |
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| 9. A moment with well-willers be accordant: | |
| Come, profit by the days of jubilation. | |
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| 10. Life’s Springtide in thy pasturage abideth; | |
| God keep the days of union from mutation! | 80 |
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| 11. The time of union passed and we unheeding; | |
| And now I’m in the throes of separation. | |
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| 12. A wonder-goodly bride thou art, vine-daughter! | |
| But whiles thou meritest repudiation. | |
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| 13. Save a Messiah, free from worldly fetters, | 85 |
| None with the sun may have association. | |
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| 14. Eld me forbiddeth from enjoying virgins, | |
| Save in the way of clips and osculation. | |
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| 15. Scorn not my tears for lack of you: how many | |
| A sea is made by rillets’ aggregation! | 90 |
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| 16. Since union with friends Is not our portion, | |
| Cleave, Hafiz, to the mode of lamentation. | |
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DXLII 1. A city 3 full of lovelings; On every side a fair! | |
| Friends, if ye would be doing, The call to love is there. | |
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| 2. The world’s eye never looked on A fresher maid than this: | 95 |
| Nor ever goodlier quarry Fell into any’s snare. | |
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| 3. Who ever saw a body, Like hers, of very soul? | |
| Ne’er be her skirt polluted By dust of earthly care! | |
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| 4. Why driv’st thou from thy presence A broken one like me? | |
| A kiss or an embracement’s The utmost of my prayer. | 100 |
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| 5. Pure is the wine and goodly The season: quick, enjoy | |
| The time; for who to reckon On next year’s Spring can dare? | |
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| 6. See, in the garden topers Are; rose and tulip like, | |
| Each in his hand a goblet, To a friend’s health, doth bear. | |
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| 7. Love’s knot how shall I loosen? This mystery how solve? | 105 |
| A pain ’tis and a sore one; Ay, and a hard affair. | |
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| 8. Bond to some wanton’s tresses Each heir of Hafiz is: | |
| In such a land untroubled Uneath it is to fare. | |
