Kings are slaves to your intoxicated narcissus, Ghazal 195 by Hafez

By @hamed | poet: Hafez Shirazi

غلامِ نرگسِ مستِ تو تاجدارانند

خرابِ بادهٔ لعلِ تو هوشیارانند

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تو را صبا و مرا آبِ دیده شد غَمّاز

و گر نه عاشق و معشوق رازدارانند

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ز زیرِ زلفِ دوتا چون گذر کُنی بِنْگر

که از یَمین و یَسارت چه سوگوارانند

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گذار کن چو صبا بر بنفشه زار و ببین

که از تَطاوُلِ زلفت چه بی‌قرارانند

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نصیبِ ماست بهشت ای خداشناس برو

که مُستَحَقِّ کرامت گناهکارانند

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نه من بر آن گُلِ عارض غزل سُرایم و بس

که عَندَلیبِ تو از هر طرف هزارانند

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تو دستگیر شو ای خضرِ پی خجسته که من

پیاده می‌روم و هَمرَهان سوارانند

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بیا به میکده و چهره ارغوانی کن

مرو به صومعه کآنجا سیاه کارانند

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خلاصِ حافظ از آن زلفِ تابدار مباد

که بستگانِ کمندِ تو رستگارانند

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Description:

English Translation:

Kings are slaves to your intoxicated narcissus,
The wise are ruined by the wine of your ruby lips.

The breeze has become a tale-bearer for you, and my tears for me,
Otherwise, lovers and beloveds are secret-keepers.

When you pass beneath your double curls, look,
See how many mourners there are on your right and left.

Pass like the breeze over the violet garden and see,
How restless they are from the entanglement of your curls.

Paradise is our destiny, O God-knower, go,
For sinners are deserving of your grace.

It's not only me who composes a ghazal for that rose-like face,
For your nightingale, from every side, are thousands.

Be my helper, O Khidr of a fortunate journey, for I
Am walking on foot, and my companions are riding.

Come to the tavern and make your face purple,
Don't go to the monastery, for there are evil-doers.

May Hafez never be freed from that lustrous curl,
For those bound by your snare are the saved ones.