Hafez · Ghazal 314 · Last night the languor of your eyes
دوش بیماری چشم تو ببرد از دستملیکن از لطف لبت صورت جان می‌بستم
عشق من با خط مشکین تو امروزی نیستدیرگاه است کز این جام هلالی مستم
از ثبات خودم این نکته خوش آمد که به جوردر سر کوی تو از پای طلب ننشستم
عافیت چشم مدار از من میخانه‌نشینکه دم از خدمت رندان زده‌ام تا هستم
در ره عشق از آن سوی فنا صد خطر استتا نگویی که چو عمرم به سر آمد رستم
بعد از اینم چه غم از تیر کج انداز حسودچون به محبوب کمان ابروی خود پیوستم
بوسه بر درج عقیق تو حلال است مراکه به افسوس و جفا مهر وفا نشکستم
صنمی لشکریم غارت دل کرد و برفتآه اگر عاطفت شاه نگیرد دستم
رتبت دانش حافظ به فلک بر شده بودکرد غم‌خواری شمشاد بلندت پستم
Hafez is pleased with one thing in himself: he never sat down and stopped seeking, even when the way was hard. That steadfastness is the heart of this answer. Whatever you have been patiently pursuing, the verse honours your faithfulness and suggests it has earned you something sweet. Once you are joined to what you truly love, the crooked arrows of the envious lose their power to wound. Keep your promise to yourself, and look for a kind hand that may reach out to help.
Last night the languor of your eyes carried me away,
yet from the kindness of your lip I was shaping the form of a soul.
My love for your musky down is not of today;
for a long time I have been drunk from this crescent cup.
Of my own constancy, this one point pleased me: that despite cruelty
I never sat down and gave up seeking in your lane.
Do not expect safety from me, who sits in the tavern,
for as long as I have lived I have spoken of serving the rends.
On the road of love, beyond annihilation, there are a hundred dangers;
so do not say, "When my life comes to its end, I am free."
What should I fear from now on from the envious one's crooked arrow,
since I have joined my beloved with the bow-shaped eyebrow?
A kiss on your casket of carnelian is lawful for me,
for through mockery and cruelty I never broke the seal of faithfulness.
An idol from the army plundered my heart and went;
ah, if the King's compassion does not take my hand!
The rank of Hafez's learning had risen to the heavens;
grieving for your tall boxwood has brought me low.