Poem #454

From the Beloved's lane comes the breeze of Nowruz day

if you seek help from this wind, light your heart's lamp, I pray.

Like the rose, if you have a coin, spend it on delight

for hoarding gold led Qarun into error's night.

From the rose's cup, the nightingale is so drunk with ruby wine

he sings a song of victory to the turquoise sky divine.

Go to the plain, shake the dust of grief from your hem

come to the garden, learn ghazals from the nightingale's gem.

Since eternity is not possible in this turquoise hall, O heart

seize the chance for pleasure, make success your art.

What is the way of granting desire?

To leave your own desire behind, the crown of lordship you will find.

I speak in a veil; come out like the rose from the bud's play

for the rule of the Nowruz King lasts but a five-day stay.

I know not what the turtledove laments by the stream's side

does she, like me, have a grief that day and night abide?

I have wine as pure as the soul, yet the Sufi finds a flaw

O God, let no wise man suffer such a fate by law.

Your sweet Friend is gone, now sit alone, O Candle, in your turn

for this is Heaven's decree, whether you build or burn.

One cannot be deprived of joy's means by pride of lore

come, Saki, for the ignorant often finds his day holds more.

Drink wine in Asaf's assembly on this glorious Nowruz day

for a sip from your cup gives the world a festive array.

Not only Hafez prays for Master Turan Shah's renown

the world seeks a Nowruz feast from praising Asaf's crown.

His presence is the prayer-niche for the pious heart and sight

his brow is the day of victory for those who rise at first light.