Hafez · Ghazal 472 · Praise for the sultan's justice
احمد الله علی معدلة السلطاناحمد شیخ اویس حسن ایلخانی
خان بن خان و شهنشاه شهنشاه‌نژادآن که می‌زیبد اگر جان جهانش خوانی
دیده نادیده به اقبال تو ایمان آوردمرحبا ای به چنین لطف خدا ارزانی
ماه اگر بی تو برآید به دو نیمش بزننددولت احمدی و معجزه سبحانی
جلوه بخت تو دل می‌برد از شاه و گداچشم بد دور که هم جانی و هم جانانی
برشکن کاکل ترکانه که در طالع توستبخشش و کوشش خاقانی و چنگزخانی
گر چه دوریم به یاد تو قدح می‌گیریمبعد منزل نبود در سفر روحانی
از گل پارسیم غنچه عیشی نشکفتحبذا دجله بغداد و می ریحانی
سر عاشق که نه خاک در معشوق بودکی خلاصش بود از محنت سرگردانی
ای نسیم سحری خاک در یار بیارکه کند حافظ از او دیده دل نورانی
Written to a ruler in faraway Baghdad, this ghazal carries one line that speaks to anyone separated from someone they admire or love: on a journey of the spirit there is no distance between stations. You may be far from a person or a place that matters to you, yet you can still raise a cup in their memory, and the bond holds. Hafez also admits that his own home has not always brought him joy. Let your heart find where it truly belongs, and let the dawn breeze bring you its light.
I praise God for the justice of the sultan,
Ahmad, son of Sheikh Oveys, son of Hasan the Ilkhanid,
khan son of khan, king of kings of a line of kings,
one whom it would suit if you called him the soul of the world.
Without having seen you, my eyes have come to believe in your fortune;
welcome, O you who are worthy of such grace from God.
If the moon should rise without you, it will be split in two,
by the fortune of Ahmad and a miracle of God.
The radiance of your fortune steals the hearts of king and beggar;
may the evil eye stay far, for you are both soul and beloved.
Shake loose your Turkish forelock, for in your stars
are the bounty and the striving of the Khaqan and Genghis Khan.
Though we are far away, we raise the cup in your memory;
on a journey of the spirit there is no distance between stations.
From the rose of Pars no bud of pleasure has bloomed for me;
how lovely the Tigris of Baghdad and the basil-scented wine!
The lover's head that is not dust at the beloved's door,
how will it ever be freed from the trouble of wandering?
O breeze of dawn, bring the dust of the beloved's door,
so that Hafez may bring light to the eye of his heart with it.