Hafez · Ghazal 271 · Such complaints of her black curl
دارم از زلف سیاهش گله چندان که مپرسکه چنان ز او شده‌ام بی سر و سامان که مپرس
کس به امید وفا ترک دل و دین مکنادکه چنانم من از این کرده پشیمان که مپرس
به یکی جرعه که آزار کسش در پی نیستزحمتی می‌کشم از مردم نادان که مپرس
زاهد از ما به سلامت بگذر کـ‌این می لعلدل و دین می‌برد از دست بدان سان که مپرس
گفت‌وگوهاست در این راه که جان بگدازدهر کسی عربده‌ای این که مبین آن که مپرس
پارسایی و سلامت هوسم بود، ولیشیوه‌ای می‌کند آن نرگس فتان که مپرس
گفتم از گوی فلک صورت حالی پرسمگفت آن می‌کشم اندر خم چوگان که مپرس
گفتمش زلف به خون که شکستی؟ گفتاحافظ این قصه دراز است به قرآن که مپرس
Not every question has an answer, and some stories are too long to tell. Even the turning sky, Hafez says, is driven by forces it cannot explain. If you are searching for the reason behind something that has unsettled you, you may be asked here to set the question down for a while. Others will argue and judge; let them pass by in peace. Keep your simple joys, which harm no one, and do not let the noise of the crowd trouble you. Some answers come only when we stop demanding them.
I have so many complaints of her black curl, don't ask,
for it has left me so undone and without a home, don't ask.
Let no one, hoping for faithfulness, give up heart and faith,
for I so regret having done it, don't ask.
For a single sip that brings harm to no one,
I suffer such trouble from ignorant people, don't ask.
Ascetic, pass us by in peace, for this ruby wine
carries off heart and faith in such a way, don't ask.
On this road there is such talk that melts the soul:
everyone has a quarrel, "don't look at this" and "don't ask about that".
Piety and safety were my wish, but
that bewitching narcissus plays such tricks, don't ask.
I said I would ask the ball of the heavens how things stand;
it said: "I suffer such things in the curve of the polo-stick, don't ask."
I asked her: "For whose blood did you twist your curl?" She said:
"Hafez, this is a long story; by the Qur'an, don't ask."