Two of my favorite poems of Hafez; legend is that scholars decided to settle a debate over whether or not Hafez should receive a proper Muslim burial by performing divination with his poetry, the last couplet of the second poem emerged and Hafez was given a proper burial and his shrine has remained a site of pilgrimage ever since.
Translation:
It’s the fatwa of the Magian Pir and an ancient saying:
Wine is forbidden where the beloved is not the sommelier
I want to tear this cloak of hypocrisy
for unsuitable company is a painful torment for the spirit
Hoping for a sip of wine from the beloved’s lip
For years I have remained firm at the tavern door
Perhaps he has forgotten my old service
Morning breeze, remind him of our ancient pact
If you pass over my grave after a hundred years
My rotten bones will rise from the dust, dancing
The heart-ravisher took my heart with a hundred promises first
Apparently, his kind nature will not forget its pact
Tell the rosebud not to be sad about its knotted state
For it will find help from the breaths of the dawn wind and breeze
O heart, think about finding your remedy at another door
For the lover’s pain cannot be cured by the doctor’s medicines
Get the jewel of ma’rifat that you can take with you
The wealth of gold and silver belongs to others
This snare is hard, without the grace of God
Adam cannot prevail over the accursed Satan
Hafez, if you have no gold or silver, so what? Give thanks!
What better wealth than subtlety of speech and soundness of nature?
(translation modified from Reza Saberi’s Divan of Hafez, 426-7)
Original:
فتوی پیر مغان دارم و قولیست قدیم
که حرام است می آن جا که نه یار است ندیم
چاک خواهم زدن این دلق ریایی چه کنم
روح را صحبت ناجنس عذابیست الیم
تا مگر جرعه فشاند لب جانان بر من
سال‌ها شد که منم بر در میخانه مقیم
مگرش خدمت دیرین من از یاد برفت
ای نسیم سحری یاد دهش عهد قدیم
بعد صد سال اگر بر سر خاکم گذری
سر برآرد ز گلم رقص کنان عظم رمیم
دلبر از ما به صد امید ستد اول دل
ظاهرا عهد فرامش نکند خلق کریم
غنچه گو تنگ دل از کار فروبسته مباش
کز دم صبح مدد یابی و انفاس نسیم
فکر بهبود خود ای دل ز دری دیگر کن
درد عاشق نشود به به مداوای حکیم
گوهر معرفت آموز که با خود ببری
که نصیب دگران است نصاب زر و سیم
دام سخت است مگر یار شود لطف خدا
ور نه آدم نبرد صرفه ز شیطان رجیم
حافظ ار سیم و زرت نیست چه شد شاکر باش
چه به از دولت لطف سخن و طبع سلیم
Translation:
Now that the breeze of paradise blows from the garden
it’s just me and the joyful wine and a houri-natured beloved
Why should the beggar not brag of the sultanate today when
his pavilion is the shade of the cloud and his banquet is the field’s horizon?
The meadow tells the tale of the month of spring
He is not wise, who trades cash for credit of paradise
Do not seek loyalty from the enemy, there will be no light
If the monastery’s candle is lit by the synagogue’s lamp
Mend your soul with wine, for this ruinous world intends
to make bricks from our dust
Do not blame me, a drunk, for the blackness of my record
Who knows what fate has written on his head?
Do not keep your feet away from Hafez’s funeral
for, though immersed in sin, he’s on his way to paradise
translation modified from Reza Saberi’s Divan of Hafez)
Original:
کنون که می‌دمد از بوستان نسیم بهشت
من و شراب فرح بخش و یار حورسرشت
گدا چرا نزند لاف سلطنت امروز
که خیمه سایه ابر است و بزمگه لب کشت
چمن حکایت اردیبهشت می‌گوید
نه عاقل است که نسیه خرید و نقد بهشت
به می عمارت دل کن که این جهان خراب
بر آن سر است که از خاک ما بسازد خشت
وفا مجوی ز دشمن که پرتوی ندهد
چو شمع صومعه افروزی از چراغ کنشت
مکن به نامه سیاهی ملامت من مست
که آگه است که تقدیر بر سرش چه نوشت
قدم دریغ مدار از جنازه حافظ
که گر چه غرق گناه است می‌رود به بهشت
