Hafez · Ghazal 85 · And she was gone
شربتی از لب لعلش نچشیدیم و برفتروی مه پیکر او سیر ندیدیم و برفت
گویی از صحبت ما نیک به تنگ آمده بودبار بربست و به گردش نرسیدیم و برفت
بس که ما فاتحه و حرز یمانی خواندیموز پی‌اش سوره اخلاص دمیدیم و برفت
عشوه دادند که بر ما گذری خواهی کرددیدی آخر که چنین عشوه خریدیم و برفت
شد چمان در چمن حسن و لطافت لیکندر گلستان وصالش نچمیدیم و برفت
همچو حافظ همه شب ناله و زاری کردیمکای دریغا به وداعش نرسیدیم و برفت
This ghazal is a gentle warning wrapped in a lament. Hafez mourns a beauty he never fully enjoyed, a farewell he never managed to say, because he waited and hoped instead of acting. Let his regret become your wisdom. If there is someone you mean to thank, visit, or simply look at properly, do it now. Do not rely only on promises that a better moment will come. Cherish what is in front of you while it is here, and say the words your heart is holding.
We never tasted a drop from her ruby lip, and she was gone;
we never looked our fill at her moon-like face, and she was gone.
It seems she had grown quite weary of our company:
she packed her load, we could not even catch her dust, and she was gone.
How often we recited the Fatiha and the Yemeni charm,
and breathed the Sura of Sincerity after her, and she was gone.
They beguiled us, saying she would pass our way;
you saw in the end how we bought that beguiling, and she was gone.
She walked gracefully through the meadow of beauty and grace, but
we never strolled in the rose garden of her company, and she was gone.
Like Hafez, all night we wept and lamented:
"Alas, we never reached her to say farewell," and she was gone.