Ghazal 370

Why do you seek piety from us? — for we have called the drunkards to prayer.

In the orbit of your drunken narcissus, we have prayed for well-being.

Open the tavern door for me — for nothing opened from the monastery —

whether you believe it or not, this was the word we spoke.

I have fallen ruined by your eye, O cupbearer — but

a calamity that comes from the beloved — a thousand welcomes, we said.

If you do not show mercy to me, you will regret it in the end —

keep in mind this meaning that we spoke somewhere in service.

I said your stature is like a boxwood — it brought much shame —

why did we make this comparison, and why did we speak this slander?

My liver became blood like a musk-pod — less than this does not befit me —

the punishment for when we spoke to your tresses of China by mistake.

You became fire, O Hafez, but it did not catch on the beloved —

we must have told the tale of the rose's faithlessness to the breeze.