Ghazal 291

From the Divan of Hafez · 7 couplets

The Oracle Speaks

...

We have tested our fortune in this city —

we must pull our belongings from this whirlpool.

From so much biting my hand and sighing,

I have set fire, like the rose, to my own shredded body.

Last night from a nightingale, how sweetly came its song —

the rose lending its ear from the branch of its tree:

O heart, be glad — for that quick-tempered friend

will not sit quick-tempered for long, by her own fortune.

If you want the world's hard and soft to pass you by,

pass beyond your own weak vows and harsh words.

It is time that from your separation and from the burning within,

I set fire to all my belongings and provisions.

O Hafez, if desire were always fulfilled,

Jamshid too would not have been far from his throne.

ما آزموده‌ایم در این شهر بختِ خویش

بیرون کشید باید از این وَرطه رَختِ خویش

از بس که دست می‌گَزَم و آه می‌کشم

آتش زدم چو گُل به تنِ لَخت لَختِ خویش

دوشم ز بلبلی چه خوش آمد که می‌سرود

گل گوش پهن کرده ز شاخِ درختِ خویش

کای دل تو شاد باش که آن یارِ تندخو

بسیار تند روی نشیند ز بختِ خویش

خواهی که سخت و سست جهان بر تو بگذرد

بگذر ز عهدِ سست و سخن‌هایِ سختِ خویش

وقت است کز فراقِ تو وز سوزِ اندرون

آتش درافکنم به همه رَخت و پَختِ خویش

ای حافظ ار مراد مُیَسَّر شدی مدام

جمشید نیز دور نماندی ز تخت خویش

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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