From the Divan of Hafez · 9 couplets
...
More than forty years have passed that I have been boasting:
I am the least of the servants of the Magian elder.
Never, by the fortune of the wine-seller elder's grace,
has my goblet been empty of clear, bright wine.
By the rank of love and the fortune of pure-playing rends,
always the head of the tavern bench was my dwelling.
Do not suspect me ill for drinking dregs —
my garment became stained, but I am pure of hem.
I am the royal falcon of the king's hand — what state is this,
that they have forgotten the air of my dwelling?
It is a pity — a nightingale like me, now in this cage —
with this sweet tongue, silent as a lily.
The climate of Fars is wonderfully base-nurturing —
where is a companion, that I may pull up my tent from this dust?
Hafez, how long will you carry the cup beneath the cloak? —
in the feast of the master I will cast the veil from your work.
The auspicious Turanshah, in whose Yazd of merit
the obligation of his gifts became the collar of my neck.
چِل سال بیش رفت که من لاف میزنم
کز چاکرانِ پیرِ مُغان کمترین منم
هرگز به یُمنِ عاطِفَتِ پیرِ مِی فروش
ساغر تُهی نشد ز مِیِ صافِ روشنم
از جاهِ عشق و دولتِ رندانِ پاکباز
پیوسته صدرِ مَصطَبِهها بود مَسکَنَم
در شانِ من به دُردکَشی ظَنِّ بَد مَبَر
کآلوده گشت جامه، ولی پاکدامنم
شهبازِ دست پادشهم، این چه حالت است؟
کز یاد بُردهاند هوایِ نشیمنم
حیف است بلبلی چو من اکنون در این قفس
با این لسانِ عَذب، که خامُش چو سوسنم
آب و هوای فارس عجب سِفله پرور است
کو همرهی؟ که خیمه از این خاک بَرکَنَم
حافظ به زیرِ خرقه قَدَح تا به کِی کشی؟
در بزمِ خواجه پرده ز کارَت برافکنم
تورانشهِ خجسته که در من یَزیدِ فضل
شد مِنَّتِ مَواهب او طوقِ گردنم
Source: Ganjoor.net
If this ghazal appeared as your reading today, consider:
Hold a question in your heart — about love, a decision, or your path — and let Hafez speak to you directly.
Get Your Free Reading