Ghazal 133

The Sufi set a trap and opened the lid of his box of tricks —

he laid the foundation of deceit with the trick-playing sky.

The game of the wheel will break the egg in his cap,

for he displayed his jugglery before the people of mystery.

Cupbearer, come! For the graceful idol of the Sufis

has come again in splendor and begun her coquetry.

Where is this minstrel from, who tuned the mode of Iraq

and set his return on the road to Hijaz?

O heart, come — let us take refuge in God

from what the short sleeve and the long hand have done.

Do not feign — for whoever did not play love honestly,

love shut the door of meaning in the face of his heart.

Tomorrow, when the court of truth becomes apparent,

shamed will be the traveler who acted upon illusion.

O partridge of graceful step, where are you going? Stop!

Do not be fooled that the ascetic's cat has said its prayers.

Hafez! Do not blame the rends, for in pre-eternity

God made us free of the need for hypocritical piety.