Hafez · Ghazal 55 · The curve of your curl
خم زلف تو دام کفر و دین استز کارستان او یک شمه این است
جمالت معجز حسن است لیکنحدیث غمزه‌ات سحر مبین است
ز چشم شوخ تو جان کی توان برد؟که دایم با کمان اندر کمین است
بر آن چشم سیه صد آفرین بادکه در عاشق کشی سحرآفرین است
عجب علمیست علم هیئت عشقکه چرخ هشتمش، هفتم زمین است
تو پنداری که بدگو رفت و جان برد؟حسابش با کرام الکاتبین است
مشو حافظ ز کید زلفش ایمنکه دل برد و کنون در بند دین است
Something beautiful has caught you, and you know its pull. Hafez enjoys the enchantment but asks you to keep your eyes open, so that you give your heart without losing your footing. He also offers two quiet reassurances. In love's strange astronomy, the highest heaven is the lowest earth: humility is where height begins. And if someone has spoken ill of you, let it go; their account is kept by others, not by you. You need not carry it. Stay gracious and clear-eyed.
The curve of your curl is the snare of unbelief and faith;
this is but one whiff of what it works.
Your beauty is the miracle of loveliness, but
the tale of your glance is sorcery, plain to see.
How can anyone escape with their life from your playful eye,
which always lies in ambush with a bow?
A hundred blessings on that dark eye,
which works fresh magic in slaying lovers.
A strange science is the astronomy of love,
where the eighth heaven is the seventh earth.
Do you think the slanderer has gone off and got away with his life?
His account rests with the noble recording angels.
Hafez, do not feel safe from the wiles of her curl,
for it stole your heart and is now after your faith.