Poem #68
English Translation
Persian
The moon set this week, yet to my eyes a year has passed
what do you know of parting's pain—this hardship unsurpassed?
ماهم این هفته برون رفت و به چشمم سالی‌ست
حالِ هجران تو چه دانی که چه مشکل حالی‌ست؟
My eyes, from her face's grace, saw their reflection there
mistook it for a musk-dark mole upon her face so fair.
مردم دیده ز لطفِ رخِ او در رخِ او
عکس خود دید، گمان برد که مشکین خالی‌ست
Milk drips still from sugar lips so sweet and bright
though in coquetry, each lash is weaponized to fight.
می‌چکد شیر هنوز از لبِ هم‌چون شکرش
گر چه در شیوه‌گری هر مژه‌اش قَتّالی‌ست
O you renowned for generosity citywide
alas! What strange neglect of strangers you hide!
ای که انگشت‌نمایی به کرم در همه شهر
وه که در کارِ غریبان، عَجَبَت اِهمالی‌ست
No doubt shall stain my essence pure from this day on
your mouth has reasoned well on this—suspicion's gone.
بعد از اینم نَبُوَد شائبه در جوهرِ فرد
که دهانِ تو در این نکته خوش استدلالی‌ست
Good news arrived—you'll pass our way, they say
don't change your kind intent—an auspicious omen lights the day!
مژده دادند که بر ما گذری خواهی کرد
نیّتِ خیر مگردان که مبارک فالی‌ست
How can weary Hafez bear grief's mountain, separation's weight
his body, hollowed by lament, is like a reed slate.
کوهِ اندوهِ فراقت به چه حالت بکِشد؟
حافظِ خسته که از ناله تنش چون نالی‌ست
Cultural Context
US Interest Rank: 7/10. This poem expresses grief at separation. The verse about the moon going out and it seeming like a year is a striking image of time's distortion in grief. The observation that people saw their reflection in the beloved's face and thought it was a mole is clever. The verse about milk still dripping from her lip 'like sugar' despite her coquetry is a beautiful image of sweetness. The final image of the body being 'like a reed' from lamentation is poignant. The poem's emotional intensity makes it relatable.
Related Poems
"O Cupbearer, circulate the cup and pass it, for love seemed easy at first but difficulties arose."
"If that Turk of Shiraz takes my heart in hand, **** I will give Samarkand and Bukhara for his Hindu mole."
"To the courtiers of the sultan, who will deliver this prayer? **** That in gratitude for kingship, do not drive the begg..."
"O cupbearer, arise and pour the cup, **** put dust on the head of the grief of days"