Ghazal 384

I burn from your separation — turn your face from cruelty —

separation became our affliction — O Lord, turn affliction away.

The moon shows its splendor on the green steed of the sky —

until it comes to a head, turn your foot on the steed.

Shake loose your curls — that is, to spite the hyacinth —

like the breeze, go around the garden spreading your fragrance.

For the plunder of reason and faith, come out drunk —

tilt the cap on your head, turn the coat upon your body.

O light of the eyes of the drunkards, I am in the very essence of waiting —

play the melancholy harp and a cup — or turn it around.

Time is writing a fine line upon her cheek —

O Lord, turn bad writing away from our beloved.

Hafez, from beauties, your fortune is only this much —

if you are not content, turn the decree of destiny.