Poems of Hafez (Persian Poet)

[DesertRose]

The love of the dark-eyed maid will never leave my head,
This is Providence's decree, it can't be otherwise, I bet;

Much pain the rival brewed, he left no place for peace,
Shall not the sign of early-riser to heaven soar the space?

From beginning of world they ordered me naught but to drink,
All that fate decress happens, more than that it won't bring:

O magistrate, for God's sake pardon me for the sound of drum
and reed,
For this acct the codes of religion shall not be violated;

The purple wine, a safe place, the Saki and the friend,
O heart! if not content tell them when you will be content?

This is my only chance to severely love her,
How can I speak of kissing and courting, I'm banned by the
fair.

O eye wash from Hafiz's heart the image of woe,
For it is ravisher's sword-wound, it is not like blood hue.

[DesertRose]

  Last night she came and her cheeks beamed like the sun,
God knows where a grief-stricken heart she had undone;

The customs of lover-slaying and upsetting the town,
Was a dress that on her body had been fitted, I own;

She knew tha pain of the pale-faced lover well,
And the cheeks were reddened to inflict pain by the belle;

The plasphemy of her tress mocked religion yet
Behind her locks a ruddy face had kindled the ruthless maid;

Much blood flowed from my heart, my eyes spilled it,
O God how much she wasted and what was her profit?!

Sell not the darling to the world, for he who vended
Joseph of Nazareth little gained from the trade.

He said and well said:  Go Hafiz!  burn your cloak into parts,
O God from whom he learned to the secret of hearts?!

[DesertRose]

Come, my dearest, to exhilarate my heart again,
Come so that to my dead body my soul shall return again;

Come, for our absence has so marred my eyes with pain
That nothing but union with you can open it again.

My grief like a dark army has conquered my heart,
Your face, white as Roman army will enlighten my heart;

Whatever I show to the mirror of my heart is useless,
Nothing it reflects but the dream of your fair face;

They say, "Nights are pregnant with days" as they wane,
I count the stars to see what night will breed again.

Come Hafiz!  for the bulbul sings with lovely strain,
Roused by perfume of rose-bud, to unite with you again.

[Ahmed]

Amazing post, absolutely unbelievable poetry,  thanks for sharing sis