Ghazal 377

From the Divan of Hafez · 7 couplets

The Oracle Speaks

...

One night we will raise our hands and make a prayer —

we will find a remedy for the grief of your separation from somewhere.

The sick heart has slipped from hand — friends, help! —

so that we bring a physician and find a cure.

That one who took offense without cause and struck me with a sword and left —

bring her back, for God's sake, that we may make peace.

The root of joy has dried up — where is the road to the tavern? —

that in that climate we may grow and flourish.

Seek aid from the mind of the rends, O heart — otherwise

the work is hard; may it not be that we make a mistake.

The shadow of the bird of small patience does nothing —

let us seek from the auspicious shadow of the phoenix.

My heart has gone beyond the curtain — where is Hafez the sweet-speaker? —

that with his verse and ghazal we may tune a melody.

ما شبی دست برآریم و دعایی بکنیم

غم هجران تو را چاره ز جایی بکنیم

دلِ بیمار شد از دست، رفیقان مددی

تا طبیبش به سر آریم و دوایی بکنیم

آن که بی‌جرم برنجید و به تیغم زد و رفت

بازش آرید خدا را که صفایی بکنیم

خشک شد بیخ طرب راه خرابات کجاست

تا در آن آب و هوا نشو و نمایی بکنیم

مدد از خاطر رندان طلب ای دل ور نه

کار صعب است مبادا که خطایی بکنیم

سایهٔ طایر کم حوصله کاری نکند

طلب از سایهٔ میمون همایی بکنیم

دلم از پرده بشد حافظ خوش‌گوی کجاست

تا به قول و غزلش ساز نوایی بکنیم

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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