Ghazal 331: If he kills me with the sword, I will not hold back his hand

به تیغم گر کشد، دستش نگیرم
وگر تیرم زند منت پذیرم

کمان ابرویت را گو بزن تیر
که پیش دست و بازویت بمیرم

غم گیتی گر از پایم درآرد
بجز ساغر که باشد دستگیرم؟

برآی ای آفتاب صبح امید
که در دست شب هجران اسیرم

به فریادم رس ای پیر خرابات
به یک جرعه جوانم کن که پیرم

به گیسوی تو خوردم دوش سوگند
که من از پای تو سر بر نگیرم

بسوز این خرقهٔ تقوا تو حافظ
که گر آتش شوم در وی نگیرم

If he kills me with the sword, I will not hold back his hand;
and if he shoots me with an arrow, I will count it a favour.

Tell the bow of your eyebrow to loose its arrow,
so that I may die before your hand and arm.

If the grief of the world brings me down,
who but the cup will take me by the hand?

Rise, O sun of the morning of hope,
for I am a captive in the hands of the night of separation.

Come to my aid, O elder of the tavern;
with one draught make me young, for I am old.

Last night I swore by your tresses
that I will not lift my head from your feet.

Burn this cloak of piety, Hafez,
for though I turn to fire I will not catch in it.

Interpretation of the fal

You have given yourself entirely to that person and accept whatever comes from them, even hardship. For now you are caught in the night of distance and are waiting for the morning of hope. Ask a caring guide for help, so that you find strength and freshness again. Stay firm in your pledge and set affected piety aside, for it does not suit your state.