Ghazal 277: The nightingale's whole thought is that the rose should be his friend

فکر بلبل همه آن است که گل شد یارش
گل در اندیشه که چون عشوه کند در کارش

دلربایی همه آن نیست که عاشق بکشند
خواجه آن است که باشد غم خدمتکارش

جای آن است که خون موج زند در دل لعل
زین تغابن که خزف می‌شکند بازارش

بلبل از فیض گل آموخت سخن، ور نه نبود
این همه قول و غزل تعبیه در منقارش

ای که در کوچهٔ معشوقهٔ ما می‌گذری
بر حذر باش، که سر می‌شکند دیوارش

آن سفرکرده که صد قافله دل همره اوست
هر کجا هست خدایا به سلامت دارش

صحبت عافیتت گرچه خوش افتاد ای دل
جانب عشق عزیز است، فرومگذارش

صوفی سرخوش از این دست که کج کرد کلاه
به دو جام دگر آشفته شود دستارش

دل حافظ که به دیدار تو خوگر شده بود
نازپرورد وصال است، مجو آزارش

The nightingale's whole thought is that the rose should be his friend;
the rose is wondering how to play the coquette with him.

Winning hearts is not all a matter of killing the lover;
the true master is the one who cares about his servant.

It is fitting that blood should surge in the heart of the ruby
at this fraud, that mere potsherd is breaking its market.

The nightingale learned to speak through the bounty of the rose; otherwise
all these songs and ghazals were never stored in its beak.

O you who are passing through the lane of our beloved,
take care, for its wall breaks heads.

That traveller with whom a hundred caravans of hearts are journeying,
wherever he may be, O God, keep him safe.

Though the company of a quiet life has suited you, O heart,
the side of love is precious: do not neglect it.

The merry Sufi who has tilted his cap in this fashion,
with two more cups his turban will come undone.

The heart of Hafez, which had grown used to the sight of you,
was reared tenderly in union: do not look to hurt it.