Hafez · Ghazal 191 · Who will keep faith with us?
آن، کیست کز روی کرم، با ما وفاداری کند؟بر جای بدکاری چو من، یک دم نکوکاری کند؟
اول، به بانگ نای و نی، آرد به دل، پیغام ویوآن‌گه به یک پیمانه می، با من وفاداری کند
دلبر که جان فرسود از او، کام دلم نگشود از اونومید نتوان بود از او، باشد که دلداری کند
گفتم: «گره نگشوده‌ام، زان طره تا من بوده‌ام»گفتا: «منش فرموده‌ام، تا با تو طراری کند»
پشمینه‌پوش تندخو، از عشق نشنیده‌ست بوبا مستی‌اش، رمزی بگو! تا ترک هشیاری کند
چون من گدای بی‌نشان، مشکل بود یاری چنانسلطان کجا عیش نهان، با رند بازاری کند؟
زآن طره پرپیچ و خم، سهل است اگر بینم ستماز بند و زنجیرش چه غم، هر کس که عیاری کند؟
شد لشکر غم بی‌عدد، از بخت می‌خواهم مددتا فخر دین عبدالصمد، باشد که غم‌خواری کند
با چشم پر نیرنگ او، «حافظ»! مکن آهنگ او!کآن طره شبرنگ او، بسیار طراری کند
You may have given a great deal to something or someone without your wish being granted. Hafez feels this too, yet he says plainly that one cannot lose hope: perhaps comfort is still on its way. When grief seems to come in numbers, he asks fortune for help and turns to a kind and trusted friend, and you can do the same. Do not be afraid of a little hardship on the road of love. Stay open, keep faith, and let gentle music and good company carry the message to your heart.
Who is it that, out of generosity, will keep faith with us,
and for one moment do good to a wrongdoer like me?
First, with the cry of the flute and the reed, he brings his message to the heart,
and then, with one measure of wine, keeps faith with me.
The heart-stealer wore out my soul and opened no wish of my heart;
yet one cannot lose hope in him: perhaps he will console me.
I said, "As long as I have lived, I have not untied one knot of that lock."
She said, "I ordered it to rob you like a pickpocket."
The harsh-tempered wearer of wool has not caught a scent of love;
tell him a secret in his drunkenness, so he may give up sobriety.
For a beggar without name like me, such a friend is hard to win;
when does a sultan share secret pleasures with a rend of the bazaar?
From that lock full of twists and coils it is little if I suffer wrong;
why should anyone who lives boldly fear its chain and fetter?
The army of grief has grown past counting; I ask fortune for help,
that perhaps Fakhr al-Din Abd al-Samad will offer comfort.
Hafez, with that eye of hers so full of tricks, do not set out for her,
for that night-dark lock of hers plays many a cutpurse's trick.