Ghazal 111: When the reflection of your face fell in the mirror of the cup

عکس روی تو چو در آینهٔ جام افتاد
عارف از خندهٔ می در طمع خام افتاد

حسن روی تو به یک جلوه که در آینه کرد
این همه نقش در آیینهٔ اوهام افتاد

این همه عکس می و نقش نگارین که نمود
یک فروغ رخ ساقی‌ست که در جام افتاد

غیرت عشق زبان همه خاصان ببرید
کز کجا سر غمش در دهن عام افتاد؟

من ز مسجد به خرابات نه خود افتادم
اینم از عهد ازل حاصل فرجام افتاد

چه کند کز پی دوران نرود چون پرگار؟
هر که در دایرهٔ گردش ایام افتاد

در خم زلف تو آویخت دل از چاه زنخ
آه، کز چاه برون آمد و در دام افتاد

آن شد ای خواجه که در صومعه بازم بینی
کار ما با رخ ساقی و لب جام افتاد

زیر شمشیر غمش رقص‌کنان باید رفت
ک‌آن که شد کشتهٔ او نیک سرانجام افتاد

هر دمش با من دل‌سوخته لطفی دگر است
این گدا بین که چه شایستهٔ انعام افتاد

صوفیان جمله حریفند و نظرباز ولی
زین میان حافظ دل‌سوخته بدنام افتاد

When the reflection of your face fell in the mirror of the cup,
the gnostic, at the wine's laughter, fell into a raw hope.

The beauty of your face, with one showing in the mirror,
made all these images fall on the mirror of fancy.

All these reflections of wine and painted figures that appeared
are one gleam of the cupbearer's face that fell into the cup.

Love's jealous honour cut off the tongues of all the elect,
asking how the secret of its grief fell into the mouths of the crowd.

I did not fall from the mosque to the tavern of my own accord;
this fell to me from the covenant before time as my final lot.

What can he do but follow the turning, like the compass,
whoever has fallen into the circle of the turning days?

From the pit of your chin the heart hung on to the curl of your tress;
alas, it came out of the pit and fell into the snare.

That time is gone, sir, when you would see me in the cloister again;
our business has fallen to the cupbearer's face and the lip of the cup.

One must go dancing beneath the sword of grief for him,
for whoever was slain by him has come to a good end.

Every moment he has a new kindness for me, the heart-burned;
see this beggar, how worthy of bounty he has turned out.

The Sufis are all companions and gazers on beauty, but
out of them all it is heart-burned Hafez who got the bad name.