From the Divan of Hafez · 8 couplets
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Last night she came with face ablaze —
some grief-stricken heart had been burned again, who knows where.
The custom of slaying lovers and the way of city-stirring
was a garment that had been sewn upon her form.
She knew the souls of lovers were the wild-rue of her face,
and the fire of her cheek had been kindled for this purpose.
Though she said she would kill me cruelly, I could see
that secretly she had a glance for this heartburnt one.
The infidelity of her tresses was ambushing the path of faith,
and that stony heart had lit a torch from her face to pursue it.
The heart brought much blood to its palm, but the eye spilled it —
God, God! — who wasted what another had saved?
Do not sell the friend for this world — for no profit was made
by the one who sold Joseph for counterfeit gold.
She spoke, and spoke well: Go burn your cloak, Hafez —
O Lord, from whom had she learned this art of detecting counterfeits?
دوش میآمد و رخساره برافروخته بود
تا کجا باز دلِ غمزدهای سوخته بود
رسم عاشقکُشی و شیوهٔ شهرآشوبی
جامهای بود که بر قامتِ او دوخته بود
جانِ عُشّاق سپندِ رخِ خود میدانست
و آتشِ چهره بدین کار برافروخته بود
گرچه میگفت که زارَت بِکُشم میدیدم
که نهانش نظری با منِ دلسوخته بود
کفرِ زلفش رَهِ دین میزد و آن سنگین دل
در پِیاش مشعلی از چهره برافروخته بود
دل بسی خون به کف آورد ولی دیده بریخت
الله الله، که تلف کرد و که اندوخته بود؟
یار مَفروش به دنیا که بسی سود نکرد
آن که یوسف به زَرِ ناسره بفروخته بود
گفت و خوش گفت برو خرقه بسوزان حافظ
یا رب این قلبشناسی ز که آموخته بود؟
Source: Ganjoor.net
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