Ghazal 214: I saw in a sweet dream that there was a cup in my hand

دیدم به خواب خوش که به دستم پیاله بود
تعبیر رفت و کار به دولت حواله بود

چل سال رنج و غصه کشیدیم و عاقبت
تدبیر ما به دست شراب دوساله بود

آن نافهٔ مراد که می‌خواستم ز بخت
در چین زلف آن بت مشکین کلاله بود

از دست برده بود خمار غمم سحر
دولت مساعد آمد و می در پیاله بود

بر آستان میکده خون می‌خورم مدام
روزی ما ز خوان قدر این نواله بود

هر کو نکاشت مهر و ز خوبی گلی نچید
در رهگذار باد نگهبان لاله بود

بر طرف گلشنم گذر افتاد وقت صبح
آن دم که کار مرغ سحر آه و ناله بود

دیدیم شعر دلکش حافظ به مدح شاه
یک بیت از این قصیده به از صد رساله بود

آن شاه تندحمله که خورشید شیرگیر
پیشش به روز معرکه کمتر غزاله بود

I saw in a sweet dream that there was a cup in my hand;
the dream was interpreted, and the matter was referred to good fortune.

For forty years we bore pain and grief, and in the end
our remedy lay in the hands of two-year-old wine.

That musk-pod of desire which I was asking of fortune
was in the curl of the tress of that idol with musk-black locks.

At dawn the hangover of grief had overpowered me;
fortune turned favourable, and there was wine in the cup.

On the threshold of the tavern I drink blood continually;
from the table of destiny this morsel was our daily portion.

Whoever did not sow love and did not pick one flower from beauty
was keeping watch over a tulip in the path of the wind.

My way happened to pass by the rose-garden at morning,
at the moment when the business of the bird of dawn was sighing and lament.

We saw the heart-drawing verse of Hafez in praise of the king;
one couplet of this ode was better than a hundred treatises.

That king of the fierce charge, before whom the lion-seizing sun
on the day of battle was less than a gazelle.