Hafez · Ghazal 170 · The ascetic went to the tavern
زاهد خلوت‌نشین، دوش به میخانه شداز سر پیمان برفت، با سر پیمانه شد
صوفی مجلس که دی، جام و قدح می‌شکستباز به یک جرعه می، عاقل و فرزانه شد
شاهد عهد شباب، آمده بودش به خوابباز به پیرانه‌سر، عاشق و دیوانه شد
مغ‌بچه‌ای می‌گذشت، راهزن دین و دلدر پی آن آشنا، از همه بیگانه شد
آتش رخسار گل، خرمن بلبل بسوختچهره خندان شمع، آفت پروانه شد
گریه شام و سحر، شکر که ضایع نگشتقطره باران ما، گوهر یک‌دانه شد
نرگس ساقی بخواند، آیت افسون‌گریحلقه اوراد ما، مجلس افسانه شد
منزل حافظ کنون، بارگه پادشاستدل بر دل‌دار رفت، جان بر جانانه شد
Unexpected changes run through this ghazal: the strict ascetic finds his way to the tavern, the old man falls in love again, a single drop of rain becomes a pearl. Something in you that seemed settled or closed may be opening once more. Hafez gives thanks that his tears at evening and at dawn were not wasted, and your quiet efforts and longings have not been wasted either. What you have carried patiently is turning into something of value. Let yourself be surprised, and allow your heart to go where it belongs.
The ascetic who sat in seclusion went to the tavern last night;
he went back on his pledge and took up the goblet.
The Sufi of the gathering, who yesterday broke the cups and goblets,
with one sip of wine became wise and sensible again.
The beauty of his youth had come to him in a dream;
in his old age he became a lover and a madman again.
A Magian boy was passing, a thief of faith and heart;
following that familiar one, he became a stranger to everyone.
The fire of the rose's face burned the nightingale's harvest;
the laughing face of the candle became the ruin of the moth.
Thanks be that the weeping of evening and dawn was not wasted:
our raindrop became a peerless pearl.
The saqi's narcissus eye recited a verse of enchantment;
our circle of litanies became a gathering of tales.
The lodging of Hafez is now the court of the king;
the heart has gone to the heart's beloved, the soul to the soul's dearest.