Hafez · Ghazal 125 · That certain something
شاهد آن نیست که مویی و میانی داردبنده طلعت آن باش که آنی دارد
شیوه حور و پری گرچه لطیف است ولیخوبی آن است و لطافت که فلانی دارد
چشمه چشم مرا ای گل خندان دریابکه به امید تو خوش آب روانی دارد
گوی خوبی که برد از تو؟ که خورشید آن جانه سواریست که در دست عنانی دارد
دل نشان شد سخنم تا تو قبولش کردیآری آری سخن عشق نشانی دارد
خم ابروی تو در صنعت تیراندازیبرده از دست هر آن کس که کمانی دارد
در ره عشق نشد کس به یقین محرم رازهر کسی بر حسب فکر، گمانی دارد
با خرابات نشینان ز کرامات ملافهر سخن وقتی و هر نکته مکانی دارد
مرغ زیرک نزند در چمنش پرده سرایهر بهاری که به دنباله، خزانی دارد
مدعی گو لغز و نکته به حافظ مفروشکلک ما نیز زبانی و بیانی دارد
True beauty, Hafez says, is not in the obvious features but in "that certain something", the quality no one can quite name. Look for it in people and in situations, rather than judging by the surface. He adds a humbling truth: on the road of love no one holds the secret for certain; everyone has only a guess. So hold your own views lightly, speak at the right time and place, and do not build on what passes like a season. Your own voice has its eloquence too; trust it.
The beloved is not the one with fine hair and a slender waist;
be the slave of the face of one who has that certain something.
The ways of houris and fairies are delicate, but
true beauty and grace are what a certain someone has.
O laughing rose, tend the spring of my eye,
for in hope of you its water runs sweetly.
Who could carry off the ball of beauty from you? For there the sun
is no horseman with the reins in his hand.
My words found their mark once you accepted them;
yes, yes, the words of love carry their own sign.
The curve of your eyebrow, in the art of archery,
has bested everyone who holds a bow.
On the road of love no one has truly become the confidant of the secret;
each person, according to their thought, has a guess.
Do not boast of miracles to those who sit in the tavern;
every word has its time, and every subtle point its place.
The clever bird does not pitch its tent in the meadow
of any spring that has an autumn trailing behind.
Tell the pretender not to sell riddles and subtleties to Hafez:
our pen, too, has a tongue and an eloquence.