Ghazal 112

From the Divan of Hafez · 7 couplets

The Oracle Speaks

...

The One who gave your cheek the color of rose and eglantine

can also grant patience and peace to wretched me.

And the One who taught your tresses the custom of tyranny

can also, through His grace, give justice to this sorrowful one.

I gave up hope of Farhad that very day

when he gave the reins of his mad heart to the lip of Shirin.

If there is no treasure of gold, the corner of contentment remains —

the One who gave that to kings, gave this to beggars.

The world is a beautiful bride in outward form, but

whoever wed her gave his own life as dowry.

From now on: my hand, the hem of the cypress, the edge of the stream —

especially now that the breeze has brought the news of spring.

In the fist of time's grief, the heart of Hafez turned to blood —

from separation from your face, O Master Qavam al-Din — justice!

آن که رخسارِ تو را رنگِ گل و نسرین داد

صبر و آرام توانَد به منِ مسکین داد

وان که گیسویِ تو را رسمِ تَطاول آموخت

هم تواند کَرَمَش دادِ منِ غمگین داد

من همان روز ز فرهاد طمع بُبریدم

که عنانِ دلِ شیدا به لبِ شیرین داد

گنجِ زر گر نَبُوَد، کُنجِ قناعت باقیست

آن که آن داد به شاهان، به گدایان این داد

خوش عروسیست جهان از رهِ صورت لیکن

هر که پیوست بدو، عمرِ خودش کاوین داد

بعد از این دستِ من و دامنِ سرو و لبِ جوی

خاصه اکنون که صبا مژده فروردین داد

در کفِ غصه دوران، دلِ حافظ خون شد

از فراقِ رُخَت ای خواجه قوامُ الدین، داد

Source: Ganjoor.net

Reflect on This Poem

If this ghazal appeared as your reading today, consider:

  • Which line stirred something in you — comfort, longing, or unease?
  • What question were you holding when you arrived at this page?
  • What is this poem asking you to release or embrace?

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