Ghazal 7: My Mad Heart

Up, cupbearer! Let us pay the wine's wage
Strew with dust the sorrow of our age

Give me the wine cup; that, joy-possessed,
I may tear this blue cowl from my breast

Wise men may think me bare to shame
But I do not care for name or fame

Bring me wine! How many a man lost
With wind of pride the honor for dust?

My bosom fumes, my sighs so loud
Burned yon crude unfeeling crowd

The secret of my mad heart, none can know
Even the people of both high and low

Even by that sweetheart charmed am I,
Who once from my heart magic sweetness fly

The one who once saw my Silvern tree
Can he see the cypress that in the turf can be?

Hafiz! Be patient in adversity night and day
Till you will see a bed of roses on your way

English Translation © Ali Salami
Tehran, Iran
salamii@ut.ac.ir

by Hafiz of Shiraz

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