Hafez · Ghazal 425 · Trailing her skirts
دامن‌کشان همی شد در شرب زرکشیدهصد ماهرو ز رشکش جیب قصب دریده
از تاب آتش می، بر گرد عارضش خویچون قطره‌های شبنم بر برگ گل چکیده
لفظی فصیح، شیرین، قدی بلند، چابکرویی لطیف، زیبا، چشمی، خوش کشیده
یاقوت جان‌فزایش از آب لطف زادهشمشاد خوش‌خرامش در ناز پروریده
آن لعل دلکشش بین، وآن خنده دل‌آشوبوآن رفتن خوشش بین، وآن گام آرمیده
آن آهوی سیه‌چشم از دام ما برون شدیاران چه چاره سازم با این دل رمیده؟
زنهار تا توانی اهل نظر میآزاردنیا وفا ندارد ای نور هر دو دیده
تا کی کشم عتیبت؟ از چشم دل‌فریبتروزی کرشمه‌ای کن، ای یار برگزیده!
گر خاطر شریفت رنجیده شد ز حافظبازآ که توبه کردیم از گفته و شنیده
بس شکر بازگویم در بندگی خواجهگر اوفتد به دستم آن میوه رسیده
Something lovely has passed close by and slipped away, like a gazelle out of a snare, and your heart is left startled. Hafez does not chase it with blame. Instead he offers an open door: if there was hurt, come back, for all the words said and heard are forgiven. If a misunderstanding stands between you and someone dear, be the first to make peace. The world is too uncertain to waste on grudges, and gratitude is ready for the ripe fruit when it falls.
She went by trailing her skirts, in a robe of gold thread;
a hundred moon-faced ones tore their linen collars in envy.
From the heat of the wine's fire, sweat around her cheek
like drops of dew fallen on a rose petal.
Words eloquent and sweet, a tall and nimble figure,
a face delicate and lovely, eyes beautifully drawn.
Her life-giving ruby born of the water of grace,
her graceful boxwood figure raised in pride.
See that captivating ruby, and that heart-troubling laughter;
see that lovely walk, and that unhurried step.
That black-eyed gazelle has slipped out of our snare;
friends, what can I do with this startled heart?
Take care, as far as you can, not to hurt those who see truly;
the world keeps no faith, O light of both eyes.
How long must I bear reproach from your heart-deceiving eye?
One day, show me a flirting glance, O chosen friend.
If your noble mind was hurt by Hafez,
come back, for we have repented of all that was said and heard.
Much thanks I will give, in the service of the Khwaja,
if that ripe fruit should fall into my hand.