Ghazal 215: In the street of the tavern, O Lord, what a commotion there was at dawn

به کوی میکده یا رب سحر چه مشغله بود؟
که جوش شاهد و ساقی و شمع و مشعله بود

حدیث عشق که از حرف و صوت مستغنیست
به نالهٔ دف و نی در خروش و ولوله بود

مباحثی که در آن مجلس جنون می‌رفت
ورای مدرسه و قال و قیل مسأله بود

دل از کرشمهٔ ساقی به شکر بود ولی
ز نامساعدی بختش اندکی گله بود

قیاس کردم و آن چشم جادوانهٔ مست
هزار ساحر چون سامریش در گله بود

بگفتمش به لبم بوسه‌ای حوالت کن
به خنده گفت کی‌ات با من این معامله بود؟

ز اخترم نظری سعد در ره است که دوش
میان ماه و رخ یار من مقابله بود

دهان یار که درمان درد حافظ داشت
فغان که وقت مروت چه تنگ حوصله بود

In the street of the tavern, O Lord, what a commotion there was at dawn,
with the ferment of beauty and cupbearer, candle and torch!

The story of love, which has no need of letter or sound,
was in clamour and uproar with the wail of tambourine and flute.

The questions that were being debated in that assembly of madness
were beyond the college and its talk and counter-talk.

The heart was thankful for the cupbearer's glances, but
it had a small complaint about the unkindness of its fortune.

I made my reckoning: that drunken sorcerer of an eye
had a thousand magicians like the Samaritan in its flock.

I said to him: "Make over one kiss to my lip."
Laughing, he said: "When did you ever have such dealings with me?"

From my star a fortunate aspect is on its way, for last night
the moon and the face of my friend stood opposite each other.

The mouth of the friend, which held the cure for Hafez's pain,
alas, how short its patience was at the hour of generosity!