Ghazal 253

O you, from the radiance of whose face the tulip-field of life is joyous —

return, for without the rose of your face, the spring of life has scattered.

If tears fall like rain from the eye, it is warranted —

for in your grief, like lightning, the days of life have passed.

These one or two breaths while the chance to see you is possible —

seize our moment, for the course of life is uncertain.

How long the morning wine and the sweet sleep of dawn? —

be sober — for the choice of life has passed.

Yesterday she was passing and did not look our way —

poor heart that gained nothing from the passing of life.

Whoever revolves around the point of your mouth

has no fear of the ocean of annihilation in life.

On every side, from the army of events, there is an ambush —

that is why the rider of life gallops with loosened reins.

I am alive without life — and do not find this strange:

who counts the day of separation as part of life?

Speak your words, Hafez, for upon the page of the world

this mark remains from your pen as a memorial of life.