Ghazal 130

سحر بلبل حکایت با صبا کرد
که عشق روی گل با ما چه‌ها کرد

از آن رنگ رخم، خون در دل افتاد
وز آن گلشن، به خارم مبتلا کرد

غلام همت آن نازنینم
که کار خیر بی روی و ریا کرد

من از بیگانگان دیگر ننالم
که با من هرچه کرد آن آشنا کرد

گر از سلطان طمع کردم، خطا بود
ور از دلبر وفا جستم، جفا کرد

خوشش باد آن نسیم صبحگاهی
که درد شب نشینان را دوا کرد

نقاب گل کشید و زلف سنبل
گره بند قبای غنچه وا کرد

به هر سو بلبل عاشق در افغان
تنعم از میان، باد صبا کرد

بشارت بر به کوی می فروشان
که حافظ توبه از زهد ریا کرد

وفا از خواجگان شهر با من
کمال دولت و دین بوالوفا کرد

At dawn the nightingale told its tale to the breeze:
what things love of the rose's face has done to us!

From the colour of that face, blood fell into my heart,
and from that rose garden it afflicted me with a thorn.

I am the slave of the spirit of that delicate one
who did a good deed without show or hypocrisy.

I will complain no more of strangers,
for whatever was done to me, that friend did.

If I hoped for something from the sultan, it was a mistake;
if I looked for faithfulness from the heart-stealer, she was cruel.

May it go well with that breeze of morning
which cured the pain of those who sit up at night.

It drew back the veil of the rose and the tress of the hyacinth,
and undid the knot in the fastening of the rosebud's robe.

On every side the nightingale in love is crying out,
while the morning breeze has taken its pleasure among them.

Carry the good news to the street of the wine sellers
that Hafez has repented of hypocritical asceticism.

Faithfulness to me among the masters of the city
was shown by Kamal al-Dawla wa'l-Din, Abu'l-Wafa.