Hafez · Ghazal 379 · My head is merry
سرم خوش است و به بانگ بلند می‌گویمکه من نسیم حیات از پیاله می‌جویم
عبوس زهد به وجه خمار ننشیندمرید خرقه دردی‌کشان خوش‌خویم
شدم فسانه به سرگشتگی و ابروی دوستکشید در خم چوگان خویش چون گویم
گرم نه پیر مغان در به روی بگشایدکدام در بزنم؟ چاره از کجا جویم؟
مکن در این چمنم سرزنش به خودروییچنان که پرورشم می‌دهند، می‌رویم
تو خانقاه و خرابات در میانه مبینخدا گواه که هر جا که هست، با اویم
غبار راه طلب، کیمیای بهروزی‌ستغلام دولت آن خاک عنبرین بویم
ز شوق نرگس مست بلندبالاییچو لاله با قدح افتاده بر لب جویم
بیار می که به فتوی حافظ از دل پاکغبار زرق به فیض قدح فروشویم
Hafez speaks here without apology: he is who he is, and he grows as he has been nurtured. If others reproach you for being different, this ghazal reminds you that you were shaped by forces larger than yourself. Do not divide the world too sharply into sacred and worldly; God is present wherever you are. The dust of the road you walk in search of what you love is itself the alchemy of good fortune. Keep seeking with a pure heart, and let pretence wash away.
My head is merry, and I say it aloud:
I seek the breath of life from the cup.
The sour face of asceticism does not suit a hangover;
I am a disciple of the cloak of the good-natured dreg-drinkers.
My wandering has made me a byword, and the friend's eyebrow
has drawn me like a ball into the curve of its polo-stick.
If the Magian elder does not open his door to me,
which door shall I knock on? Where shall I seek a remedy?
Do not reproach me in this meadow for growing wild;
I grow just as they nurture me.
Do not see the khanqah and the tavern as two;
God is my witness: wherever He is, I am with Him.
The dust of the road of seeking is the alchemy of good fortune;
I am a servant to the blessing of that ambergris-scented dust.
From longing for the drunken narcissus of one tall and slender,
like the tulip, cup in hand, I have fallen by the stream's edge.
Bring wine, for by Hafez's ruling, with a pure heart,
we will wash away the dust of hypocrisy with the bounty of the cup.