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Persiahaus

Hafez · Ghazal 359 · Happy the day I leave

خرم آن روز کز این منزل ویران برومراحت جان طلبم و از پی جانان بروم

گر چه دانم که به جایی نبرد راه غریبمن به بوی سر آن زلف پریشان بروم

دلم از وحشت زندان سکندر بگرفترخت بربندم و تا ملک سلیمان بروم

چون صبا با تن بیمار و دل بی‌طاقتبه هواداری آن سرو خرامان بروم

در ره او چو قلم گر به سرم باید رفتبا دل زخم‌کش و دیده گریان بروم

نذر کردم گر از این غم به درآیم روزیتا در میکده شادان و غزل‌خوان بروم

به هواداری او ذره‌صفت، رقص‌کنانتا لب چشمه خورشید درخشان بروم

تازیان را غم احوال گران‌باران نیستپارسایان مددی تا خوش و آسان بروم

ور چو حافظ ز بیابان نبرم ره بیرونهمره کوکبه آصف دوران بروم

The faal · longing

There is a longing in you to leave a place that has grown narrow and to go towards what your soul truly wants. Hafez knows the road may be uncertain, yet he goes anyway, led only by a fragrance, light as the breeze, dancing like a mote of dust towards the sun. He makes a vow: when this sorrow lifts, he will go singing. You may make such a vow too. Where the load is heavy, ask for help; you need not travel alone. Moving towards what you love is already a kind of healing.

The ghazal in English

Happy the day I leave this ruined lodging,
seek the ease of my soul, and go after the beloved.

Though I know a stranger's road leads nowhere,
I will go, following the scent of that tousled curl.

My heart is choked by the dread of Alexander's prison;
I will pack my things and go as far as Solomon's realm.

Like the breeze, with a sick body and a heart without strength,
I will go, devoted to that swaying cypress.

If on his road I must walk on my head, like the pen,
I will go with a wound-bearing heart and weeping eyes.

I have vowed that if one day I come out of this sorrow,
I will go to the tavern door, glad and singing ghazals.

Devoted to him, like a mote of dust, dancing,
I will go to the brink of the fountain of the shining sun.

Those on swift horses care nothing for the plight of the heavy-laden;
help me, you devout ones, so I may go with ease and joy.

And if, like Hafez, I find no way out of the wilderness,
I will go in the train of the Asaf of the age.

Translation: Persiahaus Editors [Draft]