Ghazal 226: I fear that my tears will tear the veil from our grief

ترسم که اشک، در غم ما پرده‌در شود
وین راز سر به مهر به عالم سمر شود

گویند سنگ لعل شود، در مقام صبر
آری شود، ولیک به خون جگر شود

خواهم شدن به میکده گریان و دادخواه
کز دست غم خلاص من، آنجا مگر شود

از هر کرانه تیر دعا کرده‌ام روان
باشد کز آن میانه یکی کارگر شود

ای جان حدیث ما بر دلدار بازگو
لیکن چنان مگو که صبا را خبر شود

از کیمیای مهر تو زر گشت روی من
آری به یمن لطف شما خاک، زر شود

در تنگنای حیرتم از نخوت رقیب
یا رب مباد آن که گدا معتبر شود

بس نکته غیرحسن بباید که تا کسی
مقبول طبع مردم صاحب‌نظر شود

این سرکشی که کنگرهٔ کاخ وصل راست
سرها بر آستانهٔ او خاک در شود

حافظ چو نافهٔ سر زلفش به دست توست
دم درکش ار نه باد صبا را خبر شود

I fear that my tears will tear the veil from our grief,
and that this sealed secret will become a tale told to the world.

They say that in the station of patience a stone turns to ruby;
yes, it does, but it does so with the blood of the liver.

I will go to the tavern weeping and asking for justice;
perhaps my release from the hand of grief will come about there.

From every side I have sent the arrow of prayer flying;
it may be that one among them will hit its mark.

O soul, tell our story again to the one who holds my heart,
but do not tell it so that the east wind comes to hear.

By the alchemy of your love my face has turned to gold;
yes, through the blessing of your kindness dust turns to gold.

I am in the narrow pass of bewilderment at the rival's arrogance;
O Lord, may the beggar never become a man of standing!

Many a quality besides beauty is needed before someone
is accepted by the taste of people of vision.

Such is the haughtiness of the battlements of the palace of union
that heads become the dust of the door at its threshold.

Hafez, since the musk-pod of his tress is in your hand,
hold your breath, or else the east wind will come to hear.