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This ghazal by Khaqani Shirvani is among his most poignant reflections on unrequited love, the cruelty of beauty, and the paradox of longing. Like Hatef’s poem, it lives between human emotion and spiritual symbolism; a cry of the heart that becomes a meditation on the mystery of affection and pain.

طبعِ تو دم‌ساز نیست عاشقِ دل‌سوز را
خویِ تو یاری‌گر است یارِ بدآموز را

دست‌خوشِ تو منم، دستِ جفا برگشای
بر دلِ من بَرگُمار تیرِ جگردوز را

از پیِ آن را که شب پردهٔ رازِ من است
خواهم کز دودِ دل پرده کنم روز را

لیک ز بیمِ رقیب وز پیِ نفیِ گمان
راهِ برون بسته‌ام، آهِ درون‌سوز را

دل چه شناسد که چیست قیمتِ سودایِ تو؟
قَدْر چه داند صدف دُرِّ شب‌افروز را؟

گر اثرِ رویِ تو، سویِ گلستان رسد
بادِ صبا رد کند تحفهٔ نوروز را

تا دلِ «خاقانی» است از تو همی نگذرد
بو که درآرد به مهر آن دلِ کین‌توز را

English translation of Khaqani Shirvani’s ghazal:

Your nature finds no harmony with the tender-hearted lover,
Your disposition is a friend only to the false and the faithless.
I am in your hands; open the hand of cruelty,
And aim upon my heart the arrow that pierces the soul.
For the one who guards my secret in the night,
I wish to lift the veil by day with the smoke of my burning heart.
Yet, for fear of the rival and to silence suspicion,
I have closed the outward path, leaving only the sighs that burn within.
How could the heart ever know the worth of your passion?
How could the shell comprehend the value of the night-glowing pearl?
If the radiance of your face should reach the garden,
The morning breeze would scorn the gift of Nowruz.
As long as Khaqani’s heart belongs to you, it shall not turn away
Perhaps your vengeful heart will one day awaken to love.