Hafez · Ghazal 97 · A crown on the heads of the fair
تویی که بر سر خوبان کشوری چون تاجسزد اگر همه دلبران دهندت باج
دو چشم شوخ تو برهم زده خطا و حبشبه چین زلف تو ماچین و هند داده خراج
بیاض روی تو روشن چو عارض رخ روزسواد زلف سیاه تو هست ظلمت داج
دهان شهد تو داده رواج آب خضرلب چو قند تو برد از نبات مصر رواج
از این مرض به حقیقت شفا نخواهم یافتکه از تو درد دل ای جان! نمی‌رسد به علاج
چرا همی شکنی جان من ز سنگ‌دلی؟دل ضعیف که باشد، به نازکی چو زجاج
لب تو خضر و دهان تو آب حیوان استقد تو سرو و میان‌موی و بر، به هیئت عاج
فتاد در دل حافظ هوای چون تو شهیکمینه ذره خاک در تو بودی کاج
Something or someone of rare beauty holds your attention, and it is easy to feel small beside it. Hafez praises without holding back, yet in the middle of his praise he makes one quiet plea: a weak heart is as delicate as glass, so do not break it. Let this be your counsel, whichever side you stand on. If you are admired, use your power gently. If you are the admirer, be humble but honest about your tender heart. Beauty and kindness belong together.
You are the one who sits like a crown on the heads of the fair:
it is only fitting that all heart-stealers pay you tribute.
Your two playful eyes have thrown Khata and Abyssinia into turmoil;
to the twist of your tresses Machin and India have paid tribute.
The whiteness of your face is as bright as the cheek of day;
the blackness of your dark curl is the gloom of the darkest night.
Your honeyed mouth has given currency to the water of Khizr;
your sugar-sweet lip has taken the market from Egyptian candy.
In truth, I will never find a cure for this sickness,
for the heartache that comes from you, my soul, is beyond remedy.
Why do you keep breaking my soul with your stony heart?
A weak heart is as delicate as glass.
Your lip is Khizr, and your mouth the water of life;
your stature a cypress, your waist a hair, your breast like ivory.
Into the heart of Hafez has fallen the longing for a king like you:
if only he were the least speck of dust at your door!