Ghazal 282: He has carried off my rest, my endurance and my senses

ببرد از من قرار و طاقت و هوش
بت سنگین‌دل سیمین بناگوش

نگاری چابکی شنگی کله‌دار
ظریفی مه‌وشی ترکی قباپوش

ز تاب آتش سودای عشقش
به سان دیگ دایم می‌زنم جوش

چو پیراهن شوم آسوده‌خاطر
گرش همچون قبا گیرم در آغوش

اگر پوسیده گردد استخوانم
نگردد مهرت از جانم فراموش

دل و دینم، دل و دینم ببرده‌ست
بر و دوشش، بر و دوشش، بر و دوش

دوای تو، دوای توست حافظ
لب نوشش، لب نوشش، لب نوش

He has carried off my rest, my endurance and my senses,
that idol with a heart of stone and an ear of silver.

A beauty, nimble, playful, wearing his cap askew,
graceful, moon-like, a Turk in a robe.

From the heat of the fire of passion for his love
I am forever boiling, like a cauldron.

I would be easy in mind, like his shirt,
if I could take him in my arms, as his robe does.

Even if my bones should rot away,
love for you will not be forgotten by my soul.

My heart and faith, my heart and faith have been stolen
by his breast and shoulder, his breast and shoulder, breast and shoulder.

Your remedy, your remedy, Hafez, is
his sweet lip, his sweet lip, sweet lip.