Hafez · Ghazal 414 · The rose of pleasure is blooming
گلبن عیش می‌دمد ساقی گل‌عذار کو؟باد بهار می‌وزد باده خوش‌گوار کو؟
هر گل نو ز گل‌رخی یاد همی کند ولیگوش سخن‌شنو کجا؟ دیده اعتبار کو؟
مجلس بزم عیش را غالیه مراد نیستای دم صبح خوش‌نفس نافه زلف یار کو؟
حسن‌فروشی گلم نیست تحمل ای صبادست زدم به خون دل بهر خدا نگار کو؟
شمع سحرگهی اگر لاف ز عارض تو زدخصم زبان دراز شد خنجر آبدار کو؟
گفت «مگر ز لعل من بوسه نداری آرزو؟»مردم از این هوس ولی قدرت و اختیار کو؟
حافظ اگر چه در سخن خازن گنج حکمت استاز غم روزگار دون، طبع سخن‌گزار کو؟
Spring has arrived around you, and yet something feels missing: the one face, the one presence that would make the season complete. Hafez feels the same ache and asks his questions honestly. But notice his second line: every rose is a reminder, and there is a lesson for the eye that sees and the ear that listens. Pay attention to what this season is telling you. Even when the heart feels too heavy for words, the treasure is still there, waiting for the mood to return.
The rose bush of pleasure is blooming: where is the rose-cheeked saqi?
The spring wind is blowing: where is the pleasant wine?
Every new rose brings back the memory of a rose-faced one, but
where is the ear that listens, where is the eye that learns?
The feast of pleasure has no perfume to its liking;
O sweet-breathed breath of dawn, where is the musk of the beloved's curl?
I cannot bear the rose's display of beauty, O breeze;
I have dipped my hands in my heart's blood: for God's sake, where is my painted one?
If the candle of dawn boasted that it matched your cheek,
the rival has grown long-tongued: where is a tempered blade?
She said, "Do you not long for a kiss from my ruby lip?"
I died of that longing, but where is the power, where the choice?
Though Hafez in speech is keeper of the treasure of wisdom,
with the grief of this mean world, where is the mood for verse?