Ghazal 79: Now that the breeze of paradise blows from the garden

کنون که می‌دمد از بوستان، نسیم بهشت
من و شراب فرح‌بخش و یار حورسرشت

گدا چرا نزند لاف سلطنت امروز؟
که خیمه، سایهٔ ابر است و بزمگه، لب کشت

چمن حکایت اردیبهشت می‌گوید
نه عاقل است که نسیه خرید و نقد بهشت

به می عمارت دل کن که این جهان خراب
بر آن سر است که از خاک ما بسازد خشت

وفا مجوی ز دشمن که پرتوی ندهد
چو شمع صومعه افروزی از چراغ کنشت

مکن به نامه سیاهی ملامت من مست
که آگه است که تقدیر بر سرش چه نوشت

قدم دریغ مدار از جنازهٔ حافظ
که گر چه غرق گناه است، می‌رود به بهشت

Now that the breeze of paradise blows from the garden,
give me joy-bringing wine and a friend with a houri's nature.

Why should the beggar not boast of kingship today,
when his tent is the cloud's shade and his banquet hall the field's edge?

The meadow is telling the story of the month of Ordibehesht;
he is no wise man who bought on credit and let ready cash go.

Build up the heart with wine, for this ruined world
means to make bricks out of our dust.

Do not look for loyalty from an enemy, for it gives no light
when you kindle the cloister's candle from the lamp of the fire temple.

Do not blame me, drunk as I am, for a blackened record;
who knows what destiny has written on his own head?

Do not hold your step back from the funeral of Hafez,
for though he is drowned in sin, he is going to paradise.