Ghazal 50

In the snare of your tresses, the heart is caught by its own doing —

slay it with a glance, for this is its own deserving.

If you can fulfill the desire of our heart,

be at hand, for it is a goodness laid up for yourself.

By your soul, O sweet-mouthed idol — like a candle

on dark nights, my desire is my own extinction.

When you resolved on love, I told you, O nightingale —

do not, for that laughing rose is of its own mind.

The rose has no need for the musk of China and Chigil,

for its own musk-pods are within the fastening of its own robe.

Do not go to the house of the ungracious lords of this world,

for the treasure of well-being lies in your own dwelling.

Hafez has burned, and yet in the terms of his love-play,

he still stands by his own pledge and faithfulness.