Hafez · Now the rose holds a cup
کنون که بر کف گل جام باده صاف استبه صد هزار زبان بلبلش در اوصاف است
بخواه دفتر اشعار و راه صحرا گیرچه وقت مدرسه و بحث کشف کشاف است
فقیه مدرسه دی مست بود و فتوی دادکه می حرام ولی به ز مال اوقاف است
به درد و صاف تو را حکم نیست خوش درکشکه هر چه ساقی ما کرد عین الطاف است
ببر ز خلق و چو عنقا قیاس کار بگیرکه صیت گوشه نشینان ز قاف تا قاف است
حدیث مدعیان و خیال همکارانهمان حکایت زردوز و بوریاباف است
خموش حافظ و این نکته‌های چون زر سرخنگاه دار که قلاب شهر صراف است
Spring is in the rose's hand, and Hafez suggests that this is not the moment for dry debate. Take your book of poems and step out into the open. Whatever has been poured for you, clear or cloudy, accept it as a kindness you may not yet understand. Some quiet withdrawal will do you good; there is strength in sitting apart for a while. Do not be drawn into the claims and rivalries of others, and keep what is precious to you safe, shared only with those who can truly value it.
Now that in the rose's hand there is a cup of clear wine,
the nightingale with a hundred thousand tongues sings its praises.
Ask for the book of poems and take the road to the open country:
is this the time for the madrasa and debating the Kashf of the Kashshaf?
Yesterday the madrasa jurist was drunk, and gave a fatwa:
wine is forbidden, but better than the wealth of pious endowments.
Over dregs or clear wine you have no say: drink it down gladly,
for whatever our saqi has done is the essence of kindness.
Withdraw from people and, like the Anqa, take your measure,
for the fame of those who sit apart spreads from Qaf to Qaf.
The talk of the pretenders and the fancies of rivals
are the same old tale of the gold-embroiderer and the mat-weaver.
Be silent, Hafez, and these subtleties like red gold
keep safe, for the city's counterfeiter is the money-changer.