Ghazal 73

روشن از پرتو رویت نظری نیست که نیست
منت خاک درت بر بصری نیست که نیست

ناظر روی تو صاحب نظرانند آری
سر گیسوی تو در هیچ سری نیست که نیست

اشک غماز من ار سرخ برآمد چه عجب؟
خجل از کردهٔ خود پرده دری نیست که نیست

تا به دامن ننشیند ز نسیمش گردی
سیل خیز از نظرم ره‌گذری نیست که نیست

تا دم از شام سر زلف تو هر جا نزنند
با صبا گفت و شنیدم سحری نیست که نیست

من از این طالع شوریده برنجم ور نی
بهره‌مند از سر کویت دگری نیست که نیست

از حیای لب شیرین تو ای چشمهٔ نوش
غرق آب و عرق اکنون شکری نیست که نیست

مصلحت نیست که از پرده برون افتد راز
ور نه در مجلس رندان خبری نیست که نیست

شیر در بادیهٔ عشق تو روباه شود
آه از این راه که در وی خطری نیست که نیست

آب چشمم که بر او منت خاک در توست
زیر صد منت او خاک دری نیست که نیست

از وجودم قدری نام و نشان هست که هست
ور نه از ضعف در آن جا اثری نیست که نیست

غیر از این نکته که حافظ ز تو ناخشنود است
در سراپای وجودت هنری نیست که نیست

There is no eye that is not lit by the light of your face;
there is no sight that does not owe a debt to the dust of your door.

Those who look on your face are people of insight, yes;
there is no head without some secret of your hair in it.

If my tell-tale tears came out red, what wonder?
There is no tearer of veils who is not ashamed of what he has done.

So that no dust from the breeze may settle on your skirt,
there is no path that is not flooded from my eyes.

So that they do not talk everywhere of the evening of your tress,
there is no dawn when I do not hold talk with the morning breeze.

It is my own disordered fortune that pains me; otherwise
there is no one else who has no share of your street.

From shame before your sweet lip, O fountain of nectar,
there is no sugar that is not now drowned in water and sweat.

It is not wise for the secret to fall outside the veil;
otherwise there is no news that is not known in the rends' gathering.

In the desert of love for you the lion becomes a fox;
alas for this road, on which there is no danger that is not present.

The water of my eye, which owes a debt to the dust of your door,
there is no door's dust that is not under a hundred debts to it.

Of my existence just this much name and trace remains;
otherwise, from weakness, there is no effect that is not gone.

Apart from this one point, that Hafez is displeased with you,
there is no virtue that is not found in the whole of your being.