From the Divan of Hafez · 9 couplets
...
I saw in a sweet dream that a cup was in my hand —
the interpretation passed, and the work was referred to fortune.
Forty years we endured pain and sorrow, and in the end
our remedy was in the hand of two-year-old wine.
That musk-pod of desire I sought from fortune
was in the curls of that idol's musky ringlets.
The hangover of grief had nearly taken me at dawn —
fortune came in aid, and wine was in the cup.
At the tavern threshold I drink blood constantly —
our portion from destiny's table was this morsel.
Whoever did not plant love and did not pick a rose from beauty
was a guardian of tulips in the path of the wind.
At the garden's edge I happened to pass at dawn —
at the time when the bird of dawn's work was sighing and lamenting.
We saw the heart-moving verse of Hafez in praise of the king —
one couplet of this poem was worth more than a hundred treatises.
That fierce-charging king, before whom the sun, the lion-seizer,
on the day of battle was less than a gazelle.
دیدم به خوابِ خوش که به دستم پیاله بود
تعبیر رفت و کار به دولت حواله بود
چل سال رنج و غصّه کشیدیم و عاقبت
تدبیرِ ما به دستِ شرابِ دوساله بود
آن نافهٔ مراد که میخواستم ز بخت
در چینِ زلفِ آن بتِ مشکین کُلاله بود
از دست برده بود خمارِ غمم سحر
دولت مساعد آمد و مِی در پیاله بود
بر آستانِ میکده خون میخورم مدام
روزیِّ ما ز خوانِ قَدَر این نَواله بود
هر کو نکاشت مِهر و ز خوبی گُلی نچید
در رهگذارِ باد نگهبانِ لاله بود
بر طَرْفِ گلشنم گذر افتاد وقتِ صبح
آن دَم که کارِ مرغِ سحر آه و ناله بود
دیدیم شعرِ دلکش حافظ به مدحِ شاه
یک بیت از این قصیده به از صد رساله بود
آن شاهِ تندحمله که خورشیدِ شیرگیر
پیشش به روزِ معرکه کمتر غزاله بود
Source: Ganjoor.net
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