Hafez · Ghazal 474 · I am your well-wisher
هواخواه توام جانا و می‌دانم که می‌دانیکه هم نادیده می‌بینی و هم ننوشته می‌خوانی
ملامت‌گو چه دریابد میان عاشق و معشوق؟نبیند چشم نابینا خصوص اسرار پنهانی
بیفشان زلف و صوفی را به پابازی و رقص آورکه از هر رقعه دلقش هزاران بت بیفشانی
گشاد کار مشتاقان در آن ابروی دلبند استخدا را یک نفس بنشین گره بگشا ز پیشانی
ملک در سجده آدم زمین بوس تو نیت کردکه در حسن تو لطفی دید بیش از حد انسانی
چراغ افروز چشم ما نسیم زلف جانان استمباد این جمع را یا رب غم از باد پریشانی
دریغا عیش شب‌گیری که در خواب سحر بگذشتندانی قدر وقت ای دل مگر وقتی که درمانی
ملول از همرهان بودن طریق کاردانی نیستبکش دشواری منزل به یاد عهد آسانی
خیال چنبر زلفش فریبت می‌دهد حافظ«نگر تا حلقه اقبال ناممکن نجنبانی»
Hafez speaks of a bond so close that nothing needs to be written: the beloved reads what is unwritten and sees without looking. Others may not understand it, and that is all right. He asks the beloved to sit a moment and loosen the frown, and he asks you to value your time before it slips away like a night lost to sleep. If the road feels hard and your companions tiresome, bear the difficulty kindly, remembering easier days. Ask for what is possible, and ask it with a gentle heart.
I am your well-wisher, my love, and I know that you know,
for you see without seeing and read what is not written.
What can the blamer understand of what passes between lover and beloved?
The blind eye does not see, least of all hidden secrets.
Shake loose your curls and set the Sufi stamping and dancing,
so that from every patch of his cloak you shake out a thousand idols.
The way out for those who long lies in that captivating brow;
for God's sake, sit a moment and untie the knot from your forehead.
The angel, bowing to Adam, meant to kiss the ground before you,
for in your beauty he saw a grace beyond the human.
What lights the lamps of our eyes is the breeze from the beloved's curl;
Lord, let this gathering never be grieved by the wind of scattering.
Alas for the night's pleasure that slipped away in dawn sleep!
You do not know the worth of time, O heart, until you are stranded.
To grow weary of your companions is not the way of the wise;
bear the hardship of the stage in memory of the time of ease.
The fancy of the noose of her curl deceives you, Hafez:
take care not to rattle the knocker of impossible fortune.