Hafez · Ghazal 109 · It is long since the beloved sent word
دیر است که دل‌دار پیامی نفرستادننوشت سلامی و کلامی نفرستاد
صد نامه فرستادم و آن شاه سوارانپیکی ندوانید و سلامی نفرستاد
سوی من وحشی‌صفت عقل‌رمیدهآهو روشی، کبک خرامی نفرستاد
دانست که خواهد شدنم مرغ دل از دستوز آن خط چون سلسله دامی نفرستاد
فریاد که آن ساقی شکر لب سرمستدانست که مخمورم و جامی نفرستاد
چندان که زدم لاف کرامات و مقاماتهیچم خبر از هیچ مقامی نفرستاد
حافظ به ادب باش که واخواست نباشدگر شاه پیامی به غلامی نفرستاد
You may be waiting for a reply, a call, or a sign that has not come. Hafez knows this silence well: a hundred letters sent, and not one answer. Yet his last word is not resentment but grace. Keep your courtesy, he tells himself; silence is not always a judgement on you. People have their own reasons and their own timing. Let go of keeping count, keep your own heart kind and dignified, and give the matter space. What is meant for you does not need to be chased.
It is long since the beloved sent any message;
she wrote no greeting and sent no word.
I sent a hundred letters, and that king of horsemen
sent no courier running and no greeting back.
To me, half wild, with my reason put to flight,
she sent no one with a gazelle's step or a partridge's gait.
She knew the bird of my heart would slip from my hand,
and yet from that chain of down she sent no snare.
Alas, that drunken, sugar-lipped saqi
knew I was hungover, and sent no cup.
However much I boasted of wonders and spiritual stations,
she sent me no news from any station at all.
Hafez, keep your courtesy, for there is no complaint
if the king sends no message to a servant.