Hafez · Ghazal 19 · Dawn breeze, where is the beloved?
ای نسیم سحر آرامگه یار کجاست؟منزل آن مه عاشق‌کش عیار کجاست؟
شب تار است و ره وادی ایمن در پیشآتش طور کجا موعد دیدار کجاست؟
هر که آمد به جهان نقش خرابی دارددر خرابات بگویید که هشیار کجاست؟
آن‌کس است اهل بشارت که اشارت داندنکته‌ها هست بسی محرم اسرار کجاست؟
هر سر موی مرا با تو هزاران کار استما کجاییم و ملامت‌گر بی‌کار کجاست؟
باز پرسید ز گیسوی شکن در شکنشکاین دل غم‌زده سرگشته گرفتار کجاست؟
عقل دیوانه شد آن سلسله مشکین کو؟دل ز ما گوشه گرفت ابروی دلدار کجاست؟
ساقی و مطرب و می جمله مهیاست ولیعیش بی‌یار مهیا نشود یار کجاست؟
حافظ از باد خزان در چمن دهر مرنجفکر معقول بفرما گل بی‌خار کجاست؟
You may feel that you are walking on a dark night, looking for a sign the way Moses looked for the fire on Sinai. Hafez asks the breeze where the beloved has gone, and admits that everything is ready except the one thing that matters. His closing counsel is gentle and sensible: do not be wounded by the autumn wind, because there is no rose without a thorn. Accept the difficulty that comes with what you love. Stay attentive to small signs, keep your heart's secrets with care, and keep walking towards the light.
O dawn breeze, where is the beloved's resting place?
Where is the lodging of that artful, lover-slaying moon?
The night is dark, and the road to the valley of Ayman lies ahead;
where is the fire of Sinai, where the promised hour of meeting?
Whoever has come into this world bears the stamp of ruin;
in the tavern, tell me, where is the sober one?
The one fit for good news is the one who understands a sign;
there are many fine points: where is the one who keeps the secrets?
Every tip of my hair has a thousand dealings with you;
where are we, and where is the idle one who blames?
Ask once more of her curl, twist upon twist,
where this grief-stricken, bewildered, captive heart has gone.
Reason has gone mad: where is that musky chain?
My heart has withdrawn into a corner: where is the beloved's eyebrow?
Saqi, minstrel and wine are all prepared, but
without the friend no joy can be prepared: where is the friend?
Hafez, do not be hurt by the autumn wind in the meadow of time;
think it through with reason: where is the rose without a thorn?