Hafez · O king of the fair
ای پادشه خوبان داد از غم تنهاییدل بی تو به جان آمد وقت است که بازآیی
دایم گل این بستان شاداب نمی مانددریاب ضعیفان را در وقت توانایی
دیشب گله زلفش با باد همی کردمگفتا غلطی بگذر زین فکرت سودایی
صد باد صبا این جا با سلسله می رقصنداین است حریف ای دل تا باد نپیمایی
مشتاقی و مهجوری دور از تو چنانم کردکز دست بخواهد شد پایاب شکیبایی
یا رب به که شاید گفت این نکته که در عالمرخساره به کس ننمود آن شاهد هرجایی
ساقی چمن گل را بی روی تو رنگی نیستشمشاد خرامان کن تا باغ بیارایی
ای درد توام درمان در بستر ناکامیو ای یاد توام مونس در گوشه تنهایی
در دایره قسمت ما نقطه تسلیمیملطف آن چه تو اندیشی حکم آن چه تو فرمایی
فکر خود و رای خود در عالم رندی نیستکفر است در این مذهب خودبینی و خودرایی
زین دایره مینا خونین جگرم می دهتا حل کنم این مشکل در ساغر مینایی
حافظ شب هجران شد بوی خوش وصل آمدشادیت مبارک باد ای عاشق شیدایی
This ghazal begins in loneliness and ends in joy. You may feel your patience wearing thin, waiting for something or someone to return. Hafez's counsel is twofold. First, while you have strength, tend to those weaker than you, for no rose stays fresh for ever. Second, loosen your grip on your own plans and worried thoughts; the wind itself tells him to let go of melancholy, and the rend's way is surrender rather than self-will. Rest in the circle of what is given. The poem's last line is your promise of hope: the night of separation passes, and the scent of union arrives.
O king of the fair, justice! against the grief of solitude:
without you my heart is at its last breath; it is time you came back.
The rose of this garden does not stay fresh for ever;
tend to the weak while you have the strength.
Last night I was complaining to the wind about that curl;
it said, "You are mistaken; let go of this melancholy thought."
A hundred east winds dance here in chains:
this is your match, O heart, lest you labour at measuring the wind.
Longing and separation, far from you, have brought me to such a state
that the footing of my patience is about to give way.
O Lord, to whom can one tell this subtle point: that in the world
that beauty who is everywhere never showed a face to anyone?
Saqi, without your face the meadow's rose has no colour;
set the box-tree swaying in its walk, so that you adorn the garden.
O you whose pain is my remedy on the bed of disappointment,
and whose memory is my companion in the corner of solitude.
In the circle of destiny we are the point of surrender:
kindness is whatever you think, the command whatever you decree.
Thought of one's own and opinion of one's own have no place in the world of the rend;
in this creed, self-regard and self-will are unbelief.
From this azure circle my heart is bleeding: give me wine,
that I may solve this problem in a crystal cup.
Hafez, the night of separation has passed; the sweet scent of union has come.
May your joy be blessed, O frenzied lover.