Hafez · Lost Joseph will return
یوسف گم گشته بازآید به کنعان غم مخورکلبه احزان شود روزی گلستان غم مخور
ای دل غمدیده حالت به شود دل بد مکنوین سر شوریده باز آید به سامان غم مخور
گر بهار عمر باشد باز بر تخت چمنچتر گل در سر کشی ای مرغ خوشخوان غم مخور
دور گردون گر دو روزی بر مراد ما نرفت (نگشت)دائما یکسان نباشد حال دوران غم مخور
هان مشو نومید چون واقف نه ای از سر غیبباشد اندر پرده بازیهای پنهان غم مخور
ای دل ار سیل فنا بنیاد هستی بر کندچون تو را نوح است کشتیبان ز طوفان غم مخور
در بیابان گر به شوق کعبه خواهی زد قدمسرزنشها گر کند خار مغیلان غم مخور
گر چه منزل بس خطرناک است و مقصد بس بعیدهیچ راهی نیست کان را نیست پایان غم مخور
حال ما در فرقت جانان و ابرام رقیبجمله می داند خدای حال گردان غم مخور
حافظا در کنج فقر و خلوت شبهای تارتا بود وردت دعا و درس قرآن غم مخور
This is the ghazal of consolation. Like Jacob waiting for Joseph, you may feel that something dear has been lost and your house has become a hut of sorrows. Hafez repeats one phrase to you ten times: do not grieve. The heavens do not stay turned against anyone for ever, and much is moving behind the curtain that you cannot yet see. The road may be thorny and the goal far, but every road has an end. Keep walking, keep your practice of prayer or quiet reflection, and do not let despair speak for you. The rose garden is nearer than it looks.
Lost Joseph will come back to Canaan — do not grieve;
the hut of sorrows will one day be a rose garden — do not grieve.
O grief-stricken heart, your state will mend — do not lose heart;
this distracted head will come back to calm — do not grieve.
If life's spring returns once more to the meadow's throne,
you will raise the rose's canopy over your head, sweet-voiced bird — do not grieve.
If the turning sky has not gone our way for a day or two,
the course of time is not always the same — do not grieve.
Take care, do not despair, since you do not know the secret of the Unseen;
there are hidden games behind the curtain — do not grieve.
O heart, if the flood of annihilation sweeps away the foundation of being,
since you have Noah for your boatman, do not grieve at the storm.
If, in longing for the Kaaba, you set foot in the desert,
though the acacia's thorns reproach you, do not grieve.
Though the way-station is perilous and the goal far off,
there is no road that has no end — do not grieve.
Our state in parting from the beloved and the rival's pressing —
God, who turns all states, knows it all — do not grieve.
Hafez, in the corner of poverty and the solitude of dark nights,
so long as your litany is prayer and the Qur'an, do not grieve.