Poem #101
English Translation
Persian
What is this secret joy, this wine we drink? A baseless craft, where thoughts in shadows sink.
We joined the ranks of rogues, the wild and free, And cast our fate to: whatever will be, will be.
شراب و عیش نهان چیست؟ کارِ بی‌بنیاد زدیم
بر صفِ رندان و هر چه بادا باد
Untie the knot that binds your troubled heart, Forget the heavens and their spinning chart.
No engineer, with logic cold and keen, Has ever solved the riddles of this scene.
گره ز دل بگشا وز سپهر یاد مکن
که فکر هیچ مهندس چنین گره نگشاد
Marvel not at the turning of the age, The shifting lines upon time's endless page.
The wheel of heaven, in its ancient spin, Remembers thousands of the tales within.
ز انقلابِ زمانه عجب مدار
که چرخ از این فسانه هزاران هزار دارد یاد
Lift up the cup with reverence and with grace, For in its clay, the ancient kings we trace.
Jamshid and Bahman, Qobad's dust are here, Transformed by time into this vessel dear.
قدح به شرطِ ادب گیر
زان که ترکیبش ز کاسهٔ سرِ جمشید و بهمن است و قباد
Who knows where Kay Kavus and Kai are gone? Where is the throne that Jamshid sat upon?
The wind has swept their glory all away, No trace remains of their imperial sway.
که آگه است که کاووس و کی کجا رفتند؟
که واقف است که چون رفت تخت جم، بر باد؟
Still from the earth, the red tulips arise, Fed by the blood of Farhad's weeping eyes.
In memory of Shirin's sweet lip they bloom, Marking the lover's everlasting doom.
ز حسرتِ لبِ شیرین هنوز می‌بینم
که لاله می‌دمد از خونِ دیدهٔ فرهاد
Perhaps the tulip knew time's treacherous way, How fleeting is the glory of the day.
For from its birth until it fades and dies, It holds the cup, where truth in silence lies.
مگر که لاله بدانست بی‌وفاییِ دهر
که تا بزاد و بِشُد، جامِ می ز کف نَنَهاد
Come, let us drink and ruin this facade, This sober self that walks the weary road.
Perhaps in ruins, treasures we may find, A wealth concealed within the wreck of mind.
بیا بیا که زمانی ز می خراب شویم
مگر رسیم به گنجی در این خراب آباد
They will not let me leave this sacred ground, By bonds of love and memory I am bound.
The breeze of Musalla, Ruknabad's stream, Hold me captive in this waking dream.
نمی‌دهند اجازت مرا به سِیرِ سفر
نسیمِ بادِ مُصَلّا و آبِ رُکن آباد
Drink not the wine, Hafez, without the song, Unless the harp's lament is deep and strong.
For on the silk of music's gentle thread, The happy heart is bound, and sorrow fled.
قدح مگیر چو حافظ مگر به نالهٔ چنگ
که بسته‌اند بر ابریشمِ طرب دلِ شاد
Cultural Context
US Interest Rank: 8/10. This poem contains references to legendary Persian kings (Jamshid, Bahman, Qobad, Kay Kavus, Kay, Jam) and the story of Farhad and Shirin. The verse about the cup being made from the skulls of kings is a powerful image of mortality. The observation that the tulip knew 'the faithlessness of the age' and never put down the wine-cup is a striking image. The verse about reaching 'a treasure in this ruined inhabited place' is a profound statement about finding value in apparent destruction. The poem's combination of historical references and philosophical insight makes it very engaging.
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