Ghazal 278

I want bitter wine whose force can fell a man —

so that for one moment I may rest from the world and its evil and noise.

The table of this base-nurturing world has no honey of peace —

O heart, wash from your palate the taste of greed and avarice, bitter and sour.

Bring wine, for one cannot be safe from the sky's deceit —

from the game of Venus with the harp and Mars the warrior.

Cast down Bahram's hunting lasso, take up Jamshid's cup —

for I have traversed this desert: neither Bahram remains, nor his onager.

Come, let me show you the secret of the world in clear wine —

on condition that you do not show it to the crooked-natured and the heart-blind.

To look upon the dervishes does not conflict with greatness —

Solomon, with all that majesty, had regard for the ant.

The bow of the beloved's brow does not turn away from Hafez —

but it laughs at this arm of his, so lacking in strength.