Hafez · Ghazal 296 · If my star lends its help
طالع اگر مدد دهد، دامنش آورم به کفگر بکشم زهی طرب، ور بکشد زهی شرف
طرف کرم ز کس نبست، این دل پر امید منگر چه سخن همی برد، قصه من به هر طرف
از خم ابروی توام، هیچ گشایشی نشدوه که در این خیال کج، عمر عزیز شد تلف
ابروی دوست کی شود، دست‌کش خیال من؟کس نزده‌ست از این کمان، تیر مراد بر هدف
چند به ناز پرورم، مهر بتان سنگ‌دلیاد پدر نمی‌کنند، این پسران ناخلف
من به خیال زاهدی، گوشه‌نشین و طرفه آنکمغبچه‌ای ز هر طرف، می‌زندم به چنگ و دف
بی‌خبرند زاهدان، نقش بخوان و لاتقلمست ریاست محتسب، باده بده و لاتخف
صوفی شهر بین که چون لقمه شبهه می‌خوردپاردمش دراز باد، آن حیوان خوش علف
حافظ اگر قدم زنی، در ره خاندان به صدقبدرقه رهت شود، همت شحنه نجف
Hafez admits that much effort has gone into a crooked fancy, aiming at a target no arrow seems to reach. If you feel you have spent a long time on something that has not yet opened, this ghazal is honest with you about that. But it ends with a clear promise: walk your road with sincerity and you will not walk it alone, for a great protecting spirit will escort you. Do not fear the noisy or the self-important. Keep your hope, aim truly, and let sincerity be your guide.
If my star lends its help, I will take her hem into my hand:
if I draw her to me, what delight; if she slays me, what honour.
This hopeful heart of mine has gained no favour from anyone,
though my story is carried by word of mouth in every direction.
From the curve of your eyebrow no opening has come to me;
alas, in this crooked fancy precious life has been wasted.
When will the friend's eyebrow yield to the pull of my imagining?
No one has ever struck the target of desire with an arrow from this bow.
How long shall I tenderly nurture love for stone-hearted idols?
These unworthy sons do not remember their father.
I sit in a corner in my fancy of being an ascetic, and the strange thing is
that from every side some young Magian lures me with harp and tambourine.
The ascetics know nothing: read the picture, and say nothing;
the inspector is drunk on power: pour the wine, and do not fear.
See the city's Sufi, how he eats the doubtful morsel;
may his crupper grow long, that well-fed beast!
Hafez, if you walk with sincerity on the road of the Prophet's household,
the spirit of the guardian of Najaf will escort you on your way.