Hafez · Ghazal 51 · My beloved's lip
لعل سیراب به‌خون‌تشنه، لب یار من استوز پی دیدن او دادن جان کار من است
شرم از آن چشم سیه بادش و مژگان درازهر که دل بردن او دید و در انکار من است
ساروان رخت به دروازه مبر، کان سر کوشاهراهی‌ست که منزلگه دلدار من است
بنده طالع خویشم که در این قحط وفاعشق آن لولی سرمست، خریدار من است
طبله عطر گل و زلف عبیر افشانشفیض یک شمه ز بوی خوش عطار من است
باغبان همچو نسیمم ز در خویش مرانکآب گلزار تو از اشک چو گلنار من است
شربت قند و گلاب از لب یارم فرمودنرگس او که طبیب دل بیمار من است
آن که در طرز غزل نکته به حافظ آموختیار شیرین‌سخن نادره‌گفتار من است
Even in a time when faithfulness seems scarce, love has found you, and Hafez counts that as great good fortune. Be grateful for what holds your heart, and do not be shaken by those who do not understand it. Notice that the remedy often comes from the very source of the longing, and that your devotion has quietly watered a garden you may not have noticed. Remember too those who taught you what you know and love. Your path is on the main road, not off to one side; walk it gladly.
The fresh ruby that thirsts for blood is my beloved's lip,
and to give my life for a sight of it is my calling.
Let him be ashamed before that dark eye and those long lashes,
whoever has seen how they steal hearts and still finds fault with me.
Camel-driver, do not take the baggage to the city gate, for that lane's end
is the highway where my heart's beloved lodges.
I am the servant of my fortune, for in this famine of faithfulness
love for that drunken Luli is buying me.
The rose's casket of perfume and her ambergris-scattering curl
are the gift of a single breath of my perfumer's sweet scent.
Gardener, do not drive me from your door like the breeze,
for your rose garden is watered by my tears, red as pomegranate blossom.
Sugar sherbet and rosewater from my beloved's lip
were prescribed by her narcissus eye, the doctor of my sick heart.
The one who taught Hafez the fine points of the ghazal
is my sweet-spoken friend of rare speech.