Ghazal 221

چو دست بر سر زلفش زنم به تاب رود
ور آشتی طلبم با سر عتاب رود

چو ماه نو ره بیچارگان نظاره
زند به گوشهٔ ابرو و در نقاب رود

شب شراب خرابم کند به بیداری
وگر به روز شکایت کنم به خواب رود

طریق عشق پرآشوب و فتنه است ای دل
بیفتد آن که در این راه با شتاب رود

گدایی در جانان به سلطنت مفروش
کسی ز سایهٔ این در به آفتاب رود؟

سواد نامهٔ موی سیاه چون طی شد
بیاض کم نشود گر صد انتخاب رود

حباب را چو فتد باد نخوت اندر سر
کلاه داریش اندر سر شراب رود

حجاب راه تویی حافظ از میان برخیز
خوشا کسی که در این راه بی‌حجاب رود

When I lay my hand on the tip of his tress, he flies into a temper;
and if I ask for peace, he goes off into reproach.

Like the new moon, he waylays the helpless onlookers
with the corner of his eyebrow, and then goes behind the veil.

On the night of wine he ruins me with wakefulness;
and if I complain by day, he goes to sleep.

The path of love is full of tumult and trouble, O heart;
the one who goes along this road in haste will fall.

Do not sell beggary at the beloved's door for a kingdom;
does anyone go from the shade of this door into the sun?

When the black writing in the book of dark hair has come to its end,
the white will not grow less though a hundred be plucked out.

When the wind of pride gets into the head of the bubble,
its crowned state is lost in the business of wine.

You yourself are the veil on the road, Hafez; rise from between.
Happy is the one who goes along this road without a veil.