Ghazal 322: I drew the image of your form in the workshop of my eye

خیال نقش تو در کارگاه دیده کشیدم
به صورت تو نگاری ندیدم و نشنیدم

اگرچه در طلبت هم عنان باد شمالم
به گرد سرو خرامان قامتت نرسیدم

امید در شب زلفت به روز عمر نبستم
طمع به دور دهانت ز کام دل ببریدم

به شوق چشمهٔ نوشت چه قطره‌ها که فشاندم
ز لعل باده‌فروشت چه عشوه‌ها که خریدم

ز غمزه بر دل ریشم چه تیرها که گشادی
ز غصه بر سر کویت چه بارها که کشیدم

ز کوی یار بیار ای نسیم صبح غباری
که بوی خون دل ریش از آن تراب شنیدم

گناه چشم سیاه تو بود و گردن دلخواه
که من چو آهوی وحشی ز آدمی برمیدم

چو غنچه بر سرم از کوی او گذشت نسیمی
که پرده بر دل خونین به بوی او بدریدم

به خاک پای تو سوگند و نور دیدهٔ حافظ
که بی رخ تو، فروغ از چراغ دیده ندیدم

I drew the image of your form in the workshop of my eye;
a beauty in your likeness I have neither seen nor heard of.

Although in pursuit of you I ride side by side with the north wind,
I have not reached even the dust of the swaying cypress of your stature.

I did not bind my hope in the night of your tress to the day of my life;
I cut off my heart's wish from all hope of the circle of your mouth.

In longing for your sweet spring, what drops I have let fall!
From your wine-selling ruby lip, what cajolery I have bought!

With your glance, what arrows you have loosed at my wounded heart!
In grief, at the head of your street, what burdens I have borne!

Bring a little dust from the street of the friend, O morning breeze,
for from that earth I caught the scent of the blood of a wounded heart.

It was the fault of your black eye and your lovely neck
that, like a wild deer, I shied away from humankind.

A breeze from his street passed over my head, as over the bud,
and at his scent I tore the veil from my bleeding heart.

By the dust of your feet I swear, and by the light of Hafez's eye,
that without your face I have seen no brightness from the lamp of my eye.