Hafez · Ghazal 295 · At dawn in the garden
سحر به بوی گلستان دمی شدم در باغکه تا چو بلبل بیدل کنم علاج دماغ
به جلوه گل سوری نگاه می‌کردمکه بود در شب تیره به روشنی چو چراغ
چنان به حسن و جوانی خویشتن مغرورکه داشت از دل بلبل هزار گونه فراغ
گشاده نرگس رعنا ز حسرت آب از چشمنهاده لاله ز سودا به جان و دل صد داغ
زبان کشیده چو تیغی به سرزنش سوسندهان گشاده شقایق چو مردم ایغاغ
یکی چو باده پرستان صراحی اندر دستیکی چو ساقی مستان به کف گرفته ایاغ
نشاط و عیش و جوانی چو گل غنیمت دانکه حافظا نبود بر رسول غیر بلاغ
Hafez walks into a garden at dawn and finds it full of life and drama: the proud rose glowing like a lamp, the weeping narcissus, the tulip marked by longing, the lily ready to scold. Every flower has its mood. The counsel is simple: count joy and youth as gifts while they are here, as the rose does. You do not need to settle every feeling in the garden. Take in the beauty, refresh your heart, and remember that Hafez's task, like any messenger's, is only to tell you this.
At dawn, for the scent of the rose garden, I went for a while into the garden,
to soothe my troubled mind, like the heartsick nightingale.
I was gazing at the splendour of the red rose,
which shone in the dark night like a lamp.
So proud was she of her own beauty and youth
that she was a thousand ways indifferent to the nightingale's heart.
The graceful narcissus had opened its eyes and wept with longing;
the tulip, from passion, had set a hundred brands on its soul and heart.
The lily had drawn out its tongue like a sword to reproach,
the anemone had opened its mouth like a telltale.
One, like a wine-worshipper, held a flask in hand;
another, like a saqi to the drunken, held a cup.
Count joy and pleasure and youth a gift, like the rose,
for, Hafez, the messenger's only task is to deliver the message.