Ghazal 448: O you who have a place in the lane of the tavern

ای که در کوی خرابات مقامی داری
جم وقت خودی ار دست به جامی داری

ای که با زلف و رخ یار گذاری شب و روز
فرصتت باد که خوش صبحی و شامی داری

ای صبا! سوختگان بر سر ره منتظرند
گر از آن یار سفرکرده پیامی داری

خال سرسبز تو خوش دانهٔ عیشی‌ست ولی
بر کنار چمنش وه که چه دامی داری

بوی جان از لب خندان قدح می‌شنوم
بشنو ای خواجه اگر زان که مشامی داری

چون به هنگام وفا هیچ ثباتیت نبود
می‌کنم شکر که بر جور دوامی داری

نام نیک ار طلبد از تو غریبی چه شود؟
تویی امروز در این شهر که نامی داری

بس دعای سحرت مونس جان خواهد بود
تو که چون حافظ شب‌خیز غلامی داری

O you who have a place in the lane of the tavern,
you are the Jamshid of your own time if you have a hand on a cup.

O you who pass night and day with the tress and face of the friend,
may the time be yours, for you have a happy morning and evening.

East wind, those who are burnt wait at the head of the road,
in case you have a message from that friend who went travelling.

Your fresh green mole is a fine seed of pleasure, but
on the edge of its meadow, ah, what a snare you have.

I catch the scent of life from the laughing lip of the cup;
smell it, sir, if you have any sense of smell.

Since at the time for faithfulness you had no constancy at all,
I give thanks that in cruelty at least you persevere.

If a stranger looks to you for a good name, what of it?
It is you, today, who have a name in this city.

Many a dawn prayer will keep your soul company,
you who have a slave like Hafez who rises in the night.