Hafez · Ghazal 361 · The one who trampled me like dust
آن که پامال جفا کرد چو خاک راهمخاک می‌بوسم و عذر قدمش می‌خواهم
من نه آنم که ز جور تو بنالم، حاشابنده معتقد و چاکر دولتخواهم
بسته‌ام در خم گیسوی تو امید درازآن مبادا که کند دست طلب کوتاهم
ذره خاکم و در کوی توام جای خوش استترسم ای دوست که بادی ببرد ناگاهم
پیر میخانه سحر جام جهان‌بینم دادو اندر آن آینه از حسن تو کرد آگاهم
صوفی صومعه عالم قدسم لیکنحالیا دیر مغان است حوالتگاهم
با من راه‌نشین خیز و سوی میکده آیتا در آن حلقه ببینی که چه صاحب جاهم
مست بگذشتی و از حافظت اندیشه نبودآه اگر دامن حسن تو بگیرد آهم
خوشم آمد که سحر خسرو خاور می‌گفتبا همه پادشهی بنده تورانشاهم
Your loyalty runs deep, and even when you have been hurt, your instinct is to stay faithful rather than complain. Hafez binds a long hope to the beloved's curl and asks only that his reach is never cut short. He feels small, a mote of dust a wind could carry away, yet at dawn he is handed a mirror in which the beauty he loves becomes clear. Your place may look humble now, but there is a circle where your worth is seen. Keep your hope long and your heart steady.
The one who trampled me in cruelty like the dust of the road,
I kiss the dust and beg pardon of his feet.
I am not one to lament your harshness, far from it;
I am a faithful servant who wishes you well.
I have bound a long hope to the curve of your tresses;
may nothing ever cut short my seeking hand.
I am a mote of dust, and in your street my place is sweet;
I fear, O friend, a wind may suddenly carry me off.
At dawn the elder of the tavern gave me the world-seeing cup,
and in that mirror he made me aware of your beauty.
I am a Sufi of the cloister of the holy world, but
for now the Magians' temple is where I am posted.
Rise and come with me, who sit by the road, to the tavern,
so you may see in that circle what rank I hold.
You passed by drunk and gave no thought to Hafez;
ah, if my sigh should catch the hem of your beauty!
It pleased me when at dawn the king of the east was saying:
for all my kingship, I am Turanshah's servant.