Hafez · Ghazal 333 · At the evening prayer of strangers
نماز شام غریبان چو گریه آغازمبه مویه‌های غریبانه، قصه پردازم
به یاد یار و دیار آنچنان بگریم زارکه از جهان ره و رسم سفر براندازم
من از دیار حبیبم نه از بلاد غریبمهیمنا به رفیقان خود رسان بازم
خدای را مددی ای رفیق ره تا منبه کوی میکده دیگر علم برافرازم
خرد ز پیری من کی حساب برگیرد؟که باز با صنمی طفل، عشق می‌بازم
بجز صبا و شمالم نمی‌شناسد کسعزیز من! که بجز باد نیست دم‌سازم
هوای منزل یار، آب زندگانی ماستصبا بیار نسیمی ز خاک شیرازم
سرشکم آمد و عیبم بگفت روی به رویشکایت از که کنم؟ خانگی‌ست غمازم
ز چنگ زهره شنیدم که صبح‌دم می‌گفت«غلام حافظ خوش‌لهجه خوش‌آوازم»
This is Hafez's song of homesickness, sung at dusk far from the people and the place he loves. If you feel like a stranger where you are, or miss a home of the heart, the verse honours that longing as your water of life. Ask for a companion on the road and for a breath of the familiar to reach you. Hafez prays to be brought back to his friends, and his ghazal ends with the heavens singing his praise: you are more known and more loved than you feel tonight.
At the evening prayer of strangers, when I begin to weep,
I tell my story in the laments of exile.
In memory of my friend and my homeland I weep so bitterly
that I would wipe the ways and customs of travel from the world.
I am from my beloved's country, not from the cities of strangers;
O Protector, bring me back to my companions.
For God's sake, help me, companion of the road, so that I
may raise my banner once more in the lane of the tavern.
How can reason take account of my old age,
when once again I play at love with a young idol?
No one knows me but the east wind and the north wind;
my dear, I have no companion but the wind.
Longing for the beloved's dwelling is our water of life;
breeze, bring me a breath from the soil of my Shiraz.
My tears came and told my faults to my face;
of whom should I complain? My tell-tale lives in my own house.
I heard the harp of Venus say at dawn:
"I am the servant of Hafez, sweet of speech and sweet of voice."