Hafez · Ghazal 221 · When I touch her curl
چو دست بر سر زلفش زنم به تاب رودور آشتی طلبم با سر عتاب رود
چو ماه نو ره بیچارگان نظارهزند به گوشه ابرو و در نقاب رود
شب شراب خرابم کند به بیداریوگر به روز شکایت کنم به خواب رود
طریق عشق پرآشوب و فتنه است ای دلبیفتد آن که در این راه با شتاب رود
گدایی در جانان به سلطنت مفروشکسی ز سایه این در به آفتاب رود؟
سواد نامه موی سیاه چون طی شدبیاض کم نشود گر صد انتخاب رود
حباب را چو فتد باد نخوت اندر سرکلاه داریش اندر سر شراب رود
حجاب راه تویی حافظ از میان برخیزخوشا کسی که در این راه بی‌حجاب رود
Something you long for keeps slipping away whenever you reach for it, like a curl that twists from the hand or a new moon that hides behind a cloud. Hafez's counsel is patience and humility. The road of love is full of turmoil, and the one who hurries falls. Do not trade the quiet place you have for a grander one that is harsher. Be wary of pride, which bursts like a bubble in the wine. Above all, the ghazal suggests that the greatest obstacle may be your own insistence. Step out of your own way, and the road will open.
When I put my hand to the tip of her curl, she flares and twists away;
and if I ask for peace, she leaves in reproach.
Like the new moon she waylays poor onlookers
with the corner of her eyebrow, then slips behind the veil.
At night the wine leaves me ruined with wakefulness,
and if I complain by day, she drifts off to sleep.
The way of love is full of tumult and trouble, O heart;
whoever goes on this road in haste will fall.
Do not sell begging at the beloved's door for a kingdom;
would anyone leave the shade of this door for the sun?
When the dark script of black hair has been folded away,
the white will not grow less though you pick at it a hundred times.
When the wind of pride gets into the bubble's head,
its lordly cap is lost in the wine.
You are the veil on the road, Hafez; rise from between.
Happy is the one who travels this road without a veil.