Ghazal 44

Now that a cup of pure wine rests in the rose’s palm,

the nightingale praises it in a hundred thousand tongues.

Take up the book of poems and head for the open fields —

what time is this for the school and debates over commentaries?

The jurist of the school was drunk yesterday and issued a decree:

wine is forbidden, but it is better than the income of endowments.

You have no authority over dregs or clear wine — drink happily,

for whatever our cupbearer does is the essence of grace.

Withdraw from the crowd and, like the Anqa, take the measure of your work,

for the fame of recluses reaches from Qaf to Qaf.

The talk of pretenders and the fancy of rivals —

is just the tale of the gold-weaver and the mat-maker.

Be silent, Hafez, and guard these words like red gold,

for the city’s counterfeiter is also a money-changer.