Hafez · Ghazal 454 · The breeze of Nowruz

From the beloved's street comes the breeze of the Nowruz wind;
if you ask this wind for help, you will light the lamp of the heart.

If, like the rose, you have a little gold, for God's sake spend it on joy,
for the passion for hoarding gold led Qarun into many errors.

From the rose's cup the nightingale is again so drunk on ruby wine
that it has whistled up to the turquoise sky the call of the throne of victory.

Go out into the open plain, and shake the dust of grief from your skirt;
come into the rose garden, and learn from the nightingale how to sing ghazals.

Since there is no staying forever, O heart, in this turquoise hall,
treat the chance for joy as a gift, in triumph and good fortune.

What is the way to grant desires? To give up your own desire.
The cap of sovereignty is the one you stitch from this giving up.

I speak in veiled words: come out like the rose from the bud,
for the rule of the Nowruz king lasts no more than five days.

I do not know what the dove's lament is, along the banks of the streams;
perhaps it too, like me, has a grief night and day.

I have wine as clear as the soul, and the Sufi finds fault with it;
Lord, may no wise person ever meet with bad luck for a single day.

Your sweet friend has gone; now sit alone, O candle,
for this is heaven's decree, whether you bear it or burn.

Do not let pride in your learning keep you from the means of joy;
come, saqi, for the ignorant receive their daily bread more pleasantly.

Drink wine in the gathering of Asaf, at the Jalali New Year,
for a draught of his cup gives the whole world its Nowruz festival.

It is not Hafez alone who prays for Khwaja Turan Shah;
from praise of this Asaf the whole world seeks its feast and New Year gifts.

For the pious, his threshold is the prayer-niche of heart and eye;
for those who rise at dawn, his brow is the day of victory and triumph.