From the Divan of Hafez · 8 couplets
...
That ruby lip, blood-sated yet blood-thirsting, is my beloved’s —
and for the sake of seeing her, to give my life is my work.
Shame upon those dark eyes and long lashes of hers —
whoever saw her steal hearts and still denies me.
Caravan leader, do not take your baggage to the gate — for at that lane’s end
there is a highway that is the dwelling-place of my heart’s love.
I am a slave to my own fortune, for in this famine of faithfulness,
the love of that drunken wanderer is my buyer.
The perfume box of rose and her ambergris-scattering tresses —
the grace of one whiff of the sweet scent of my perfumer.
Gardener, do not drive me from your door like the breeze!
For the water of your rosegarden comes from my pomegranate-red tears.
A sherbet of sugar and rosewater — her lips prescribed for me —
her narcissus eyes that are the doctor of my ailing heart.
The one who taught Hafez subtleties in the art of the ghazal
is my sweet-spoken beloved of rare utterance.
لَعْلِ سیرابِ بهخونتشنه، لَبِ یارِ من است
وَز پیِ دیدنِ او، دادنِ جان، کارِ من است
شَرْم از آن چَشْمِ سیَه بادَش و مُژْگانِ دِراز
هرکه دِلبُرْدَنِ او دید و در اِنْکارِ من است
ساروان، رَخت به دَروازه مَبَر، کان سرِ کو
شاهراهیست که مَنْزِلْگَهِ دِلْدارِ من است
بَندهیِ طالعِ خویشم که در این قَحْطِ وَفا
عِشْقِ آن لولیِ سَرمَسْت، خَریدارِ من است
طَبْلِهیِ عِطْرِ گُل و زُلْفِ عَبیراَفْشانَش
فِیْضِ یک شِمِّه ز بویِ خوشِ عَطّارِ من است
باغْبان، همچو نسیمم ز دَرِ خویش مَران!
کآبِ گُلزارِ تو از اَشْکِ چو گُلنارِ من است
شَرْبَتِ قَنْد و گُلاب از لَبِ یارَم فَرمود
نَرْگِسِ او که طَبیبِ دِلِ بیمارِ من است
آنکه در طَرْزِ غزل، نُکته به «حافِظ» آموخت
یارِ شیرینسُخَنِ نادرهگُفتارِ من است
Source: Ganjoor.net
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