Ghazal 264

Rise and pour the water of joy into the golden cup —

before the cup of the skull becomes cast into the dust.

Our final dwelling is the valley of the silent ones —

for now, raise a clamor in the dome of the heavens.

The eye tainted with impure gazing is far from the beloved's face —

cast your gaze upon her face from the mirror of purity.

By your green head, O cypress — if I become dust,

lay aside your pride and cast your shadow on this dust.

Our heart, which was stung by the serpent of the tip of your tresses —

from your lip, cast it into the pharmacy of the antidote.

You know that the domain of this field has no permanence —

cast a fire from the liver of the cup upon these possessions.

I washed in tears, for the people of the path say:

First be pure, and then cast your eye upon that Pure One.

O Lord, that self-regarding ascetic who saw nothing but fault —

cast the smoke of a sigh into the mirror of his perception.

Like the rose, from its fragrance, make your garment a robe, Hafez —

and cast this robe in the path of that agile stature.