Hafez · Ghazal 84 · The month of fasting has gone
ساقی بیار باده که ماه صیام رفتدرده قدح که موسم ناموس و نام رفت
وقت عزیز رفت بیا تا قضا کنیمعمری که بی حضور صراحی و جام رفت
مستم کن آن چنان که ندانم ز بی‌خودیدر عرصه خیال که آمد، کدام رفت
بر بوی آن که جرعه جامت به ما رسددر مصطبه دعای تو هر صبح و شام رفت
دل را که مرده بود حیاتی به جان رسیدتا بویی از نسیم می‌اش در مشام رفت
زاهد غرور داشت، سلامت نبرد راهرند از ره نیاز به دارالسلام رفت
نقد دلی که بود مرا صرف باده شدقلب سیاه بود از آن در حرام رفت
در تاب توبه چند توان سوخت همچو عود؟می ده که عمر در سر سودای خام رفت
دیگر مکن نصیحت حافظ که ره نیافتگمگشته‌ای که باده نابش به کام رفت
A season of strictness and self-denial is ending, and Hafez greets what comes next with relief. Perhaps you, too, have spent a long time holding yourself back, worrying about how you appear. This ghazal says the time is ripe to make up for what was missed. A heart that seemed dead can come alive again with a single breath of joy. Pride slows the journey; humility and honest need carry you home. Stop burning in regret, and let a fresh season begin.
Saqi, bring wine, for the month of fasting has gone;
pour the bowl, for the season of reputation and good name has gone.
Precious time has gone; come, let us make up for
the life that went by without the flask and cup.
Make me so drunk that, beside myself, I do not know
who came and who went across the field of imagination.
In hope that a sip from your cup might reach us,
every morning and evening a prayer for you went up from the tavern bench.
The heart that had been dead found new life in its soul
once a scent of your wine's breeze reached its senses.
The zahid was proud, and did not come through the road safely;
the rend, by the road of humble need, went to the House of Peace.
The coin of the heart I had was spent on wine;
it was black and counterfeit, so it went on what is forbidden.
How long can one burn like aloes-wood in the fever of repentance?
Give wine, for life has gone in raw ambitions.
Give Hafez no more advice, for no way back is found
by the lost one whose lips pure wine has touched.