Ghazal 233

From the Divan of Hafez · 6 couplets

The Oracle Speaks

...

I will not lift my hand from seeking until my desire is fulfilled —

either the body reaches the beloved, or the soul leaves the body.

Open my grave after death and see

that from the fire within me, smoke rises from the shroud.

Show your face, that a multitude may become enraptured and bewildered —

open your lip, that a cry may rise from man and woman.

My life is on my lip, and regret is in my heart —

that, having taken no pleasure from those lips, the soul departs the body.

From longing for her mouth, my soul has come to a narrow pass —

when does the desire of the penniless ever come from that mouth?

They speak well of him among the company of lovers —

wherever the name of Hafez is raised in the assembly.

دست از طلب ندارم تا کامِ من برآید

یا تن رسد به جانان یا جان ز تن برآید

بگشای تربتم را بعد از وفات و بنگر

کز آتش درونم دود از کفن برآید

بنمای رخ که خَلقی والِه شَوَند و حیران

بگشای لب که فریاد از مرد و زن برآید

جان بر لب است و حسرت در دل که از لبانش

نگرفته هیچ کامی جان از بدن برآید

از حسرتِ دهانش آمد به تنگ جانم

خود کامِ تنگدستان کی زان دهن برآید

گویند ذکرِ خیرش در خیلِ عشقبازان

هر جا که نامِ حافظ در انجمن برآید

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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