Ghazal 35: Go about your own business, preacher; what is this outcry?

برو به کار خود ای واعظ این چه فریادست؟
مرا فتاد دل از ره، تو را چه افتادست؟

میان او که خدا آفریده است از هیچ
دقیقه‌ای‌ست که هیچ آفریده نگشادست

به کام تا نرساند مرا لبش، چون نای
نصیحت همه عالم به گوش من بادست

گدای کوی تو از هشت خلد، مستغنی‌ست
اسیر عشق تو از هر دو عالم آزادست

اگر چه مستی عشقم خراب کرد ولی
اساس هستی من زآن خراب، آبادست

دلا منال ز بیداد و جور یار که یار
تو را نصیب همین کرد و این از آن دادست

برو فسانه مخوان و فسون مدم حافظ
کز این فسانه و افسون مرا بسی یادست

Go about your own business, preacher; what is this outcry?
My heart has fallen from the road; what has befallen you?

Her waist, which God created out of nothing,
is a fine point that no created being has solved.

Until her lip brings me to my desire, like the reed flute,
the counsel of the whole world is wind in my ear.

The beggar of your street has no need of the eight paradises;
the captive of your love is free of both worlds.

Though the drunkenness of love has laid me in ruins,
the foundation of my being flourishes because of that ruin.

O heart, do not complain of the friend's injustice and cruelty,
for the friend allotted you this, and this is justice from that side.

Go, Hafez, recite no tales and breathe no spells,
for I remember a great many such tales and spells.