Ghazal 429: Cupbearer, come, for the cup of the tulip has filled with wine

ساقی بیا که شد قدح لاله پر ز می
طامات تا به چند و خرافات تا به کی؟

بگذر ز کبر و ناز که دیده‌ست روزگار
چین قبای قیصر و طرف کلاه کی

هشیار شو که مرغ چمن مست گشت، هان
بیدار شو که خواب عدم در پی است، هی

خوش‌نازکانه می‌چمی ای شاخ نوبهار!
کآشفتگی مبادت از آشوب باد دی

بر مهر چرخ و شیوهٔ او اعتماد نیست
ای وای بر کسی که شد ایمن ز مکر وی

فردا شراب کوثر و حور از برای ماست
و امروز نیز ساقی مه‌روی و جام می

باد صبا ز عهد صبی یاد می‌دهد
جان‌دارویی که غم ببرد درده ای صبی!

حشمت مبین و سلطنت گل، که بسپرد
فراش باد هر ورقش را به زیر پی

درده به یاد حاتم طی جام یک منی
تا نامهٔ سیاه بخیلان کنیم طی

زآن می که داد حسن و لطافت به ارغوان
بیرون فکند لطف مزاج از رخش به خوی

مسند به باغ بر که به خدمت چو بندگان
استاده است سرو و کمر بسته است نی

حافظ حدیث سحرفریب خوشت رسید
تا حد مصر و چین و به اطراف روم و ری

Cupbearer, come, for the cup of the tulip has filled with wine;
how long this ranting, and how long these idle tales?

Leave pride and disdain behind, for time has seen
the fold of Caesar's robe and the tilt of the cap of Kay.

Be alert, for the bird of the meadow has grown drunk; take heed.
Wake up, for the sleep of non-being is close behind; beware.

You sway so delicately, O branch of the new spring;
may you not be shaken by the tumult of the winter wind.

There is no trusting the kindness of the wheel and its ways;
alas for the one who thought himself safe from its guile.

Tomorrow the wine of Kawsar and the houris are for us,
and today as well the moon-faced cupbearer and the cup of wine.

The east wind brings to mind the days of childhood;
boy, hand me the remedy for the soul that takes grief away.

Do not look at the pomp and sovereignty of the rose, for the wind,
the chamberlain, will lay every one of its petals underfoot.

Give, in memory of Hatim Tai, a cup of a full measure,
that we may fold up the black record of the misers.

Give of that wine which gave beauty and delicacy to the Judas tree
and brought the fineness of its nature out on its cheek as sweat.

Carry the seat into the garden, for like servants
the cypress stands in attendance and the reed has girded its waist.

Hafez, the fame of your sweet, spellbinding magic has reached
the borders of Egypt and China and the lands of Rum and Rayy.