Hafez · Ghazal 195 · Crowned heads serve your drunken eye
غلام نرگس مست تو، تاجداران‌اندخراب باده لعل تو، هوشیاران‌اند
تو را صبا و مرا آب دیده شد غمازوگرنه عاشق و معشوق، رازداران‌اند
ز زیر زلف دوتا چون گذر کنی، بنگرکه از یمین و یسارت چه سوگواران‌اند!
گذار کن چو صبا بر بنفشه‌زار! و ببینکه از تطاول زلفت چه بی‌قراران‌اند!
نصیب ماست بهشت، ای خداشناس! برو!که مستحق کرامت، گناهکاران‌اند
نه من بر آن گل عارض، غزل سرایم و بسکه عندلیب تو از هر طرف، هزاران‌اند
تو دستگیر شو! ای خضر پی‌خجسته! که منپیاده می‌روم و همرهان، سواران‌اند
بیا به میکده! و چهره، ارغوانی کن!مرو به صومعه کآنجا سیاه‌کاران‌اند!
خلاص «حافظ» از آن زلف تابدار مباد!که بستگان کمند تو، رستگاران‌اند
If you feel that you have fallen short, or that others are riding ahead while you walk on foot, this ghazal is for you. Hafez says boldly that grace belongs to those who know their failings, not to the self-satisfied. Ask for help, as he asks Khezr, the guide of travellers, to take his hand. You are not alone in your love or your longing; there are thousands of nightingales singing to the same rose. Let warmth and gladness show in your face, and do not be afraid of what binds you to what you love.
Those who wear crowns are slaves of your drunken narcissus eye;
the sober are ruined by the wine of your ruby lip.
For you the breeze became the tell-tale, and for me the water of my eyes;
otherwise, lover and beloved both keep their secrets.
When you pass beneath your doubled curl, look
how many mourners stand to your right and your left!
Pass like the breeze over the bed of violets, and see
how restless they are from the long reach of your curl!
Paradise is our portion; go your way, O knower of God,
for it is the sinners who are worthy of grace.
I am not the only one who sings ghazals to that rose cheek;
your nightingales, on every side, are in their thousands.
Take my hand, O Khezr of the blessed step, for I
am going on foot, and my companions ride.
Come to the tavern and let your face glow like the judas-tree;
do not go to the cloister, for there are those whose deeds are dark.
May Hafez never be freed from that twisting curl,
for those bound in your lasso are the ones who are saved.