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Persiahaus

Hafez · Saqi, light up our cup

ساقی به نور باده برافروز جام مامطرب بگو که کار جهان شد به کام ما

ما در پیاله عکس رخ یار دیده ایمای بی خبر ز لذت شرب مدام ما

هرگز نمیرد آن که دلش زنده شد به عشقثبت است بر جریده عالم دوام ما

چندان بود کرشمه و ناز سهی قدانکاید به جلوه سرو صنوبرخرام ما

ای باد اگر به گلشن احباب بگذریزنهار عرضه ده بر جانان پیام ما

گو نام ما ز یاد به عمدا چه می بریخود آید آن که یاد نیاری ز نام ما

مستی به چشم شاهد دلبند ما خوش استزان رو سپرده اند به مستی زمام ما

ترسم که صرفه ای نبرد روز بازخواستنان حلال شیخ ز آب حرام ما

حافظ ز دیده دانه اشکی همی فشانباشد که مرغ وصل کند قصد دام ما

The faal · joy

A bright note sounds in this verse: things may turn more in your favour than you expect. Hafez sees the beloved's face shining in the cup, which is to say that joy and meaning are close to you, perhaps in something you already have. A heart made alive by love does not die. If someone seems to have forgotten you, send your message gently and without bitterness. Keep your sincerity, even your tears; they are seeds, and the bird you hope for may yet come.

The ghazal in English

Saqi, kindle our cup with the light of wine;
minstrel, sing that the world's affairs have gone as we wished.

We have seen in the goblet the reflection of the beloved's face;
O you who know nothing of the pleasure of our constant drinking!

He never dies whose heart has been made alive by love;
our permanence is written in the register of the world.

The airs and graces of the tall ones last only
until our cypress, who walks like the pine, comes into view.

O wind, if you pass through the rose garden of the friends,
take care to offer our message to the beloved.

Ask: why do you take our name from memory on purpose?
The time will come of itself when you cannot recall our name.

Drunkenness is lovely in the eye of our captivating darling;
that is why our reins have been handed over to intoxication.

I fear that on the day of reckoning the shaykh's lawful bread
will gain no advantage over our forbidden water.

Hafez, keep scattering the seed of tears from your eyes:
perhaps the bird of union will come towards our snare.

Translation: Persiahaus Editors [Draft]