Ghazal 262

The state of the blood-hearted — who will tell it again?

And from the sky, the blood of the barrel — who will seek it again?

Let it be ashamed before the eyes of the wine-worshippers

if the drunken narcissus should bloom again.

Except the Plato who sits at the barrel of wine,

the secret of wisdom — who will tell it to us again?

Whoever like the tulip has become a cup-bearer —

from this cruelty washes his face in blood again.

My heart will not open like a bud unless

it catches the scent of a goblet from her lip again.

Since in the curtain the harp spoke so much,

cut its strings so it may not speak again.

Around the sacred house of the wine-barrel, Hafez —

if he does not die, he will circle it on his head again.