Hafez · Ghazal 264 · Rise, and pour joyful water
خیز و در کاسه زر آب طربناک اندازپیشتر زان که شود کاسه سر خاک انداز
عاقبت منزل ما وادی خاموشان استحالیا غلغله در گنبد افلاک انداز
چشم آلوده‌نظر، از رخ جانان دور استبر رخ او نظر از آینه پاک انداز
به سر سبز تو ای سرو که گر خاک شومناز از سر بنه و سایه بر این خاک انداز
دل ما را که ز مار سر زلف تو بخستاز لب خود به شفاخانه تریاک انداز
ملک این مزرعه دانی که ثباتی ندهدآتشی از جگر جام، در املاک انداز
غسل در اشک زدم کاهل طریقت گویندپاک شو اول و پس دیده بر آن پاک انداز
یا رب آن زاهد خودبین که به جز عیب ندیددود آهیش در آیینه ادراک انداز
چون گل از نکهت او جامه قبا کن حافظوین قبا در ره آن قامت چالاک انداز
Hafez reminds you, gently, that time is short and that everything we hold is only lent to us. Fill your cup with gladness now, rather than saving joy for a later that may not come. He also asks for a clear eye: look at what you love through a clean mirror, without the stain of suspicion, and wash your own heart before you judge others. Let the heavy estates of worry burn lightly away, and give what you have freely, as the rose opens its robe to the breeze.
Rise, and pour joyful water into the golden bowl,
before the bowl of the head becomes a scoop for dust.
Our final lodging is the valley of the silent;
for now, raise a clamour beneath the dome of the heavens.
The eye stained by impure looking is far from the beloved's face;
look upon that face only from a clean mirror.
By your green head, O cypress, when I have turned to dust,
set aside your pride and cast your shade upon this dust.
Our heart, which the snake of your curl has bitten,
send to the healing-house of your lips, where the antidote is.
You know the ownership of this sown field gives no permanence:
cast a fire from the heart of the cup into these estates.
I bathed myself in tears, for the people of the Way say:
first become pure, and then turn your eyes upon that Pure One.
O Lord, that self-regarding ascetic who has seen nothing but faults:
cast the smoke of a sigh upon the mirror of his perception.
Like the rose at her fragrance, Hafez, tear your shirt open into a robe,
and cast that robe down in the path of that graceful stature.