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Alternate versions of the first ghazal
in Hafiz's
divan
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I Boy, bring the cup, and circulate the wine : How easy at first love seemed, but now the snags begin. How many hearts lie bleeding, waiting the wind-loosed musk Out of those tresses-the bright twist of black curls ? For what security have we here in this halting-place, Where every moment the bell clangs " Strap up your packs " ? Stain your prayer-mat with wine if the Master tells you: That seasoned voyager knows the ways of the road. But travelling light, what can these land-lubbers know of it- Black night, our fear of the waves, and the horrible whirlpool ? My self-willed love will sink my reputation: The truth leaks out ; they make a ballad of it at their meetings. If you seek his presence, Hafiz, do not let him alone: And when you meet his face, you can tell the world to go hang. |
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Translator: Avery, P., Heath-Stubbs, J. (1952). Hafiz of Shiraz: Thirty poems. London: John Murray.
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