377

One night, our hand we shall uplift; and a prayer we shall make.
For the grief of separation from Thee, a remedy from some place we shall make.

Went from the hand, the sick heart. O friends! a little help.
So that to its head, the physician we may bring; and a little remedy we may make.

He who, without offence (on my part), grieved; and, me, with the sword struck; and departed:
For God's   sake, him bring back, that purity of heart   (reconciliation) we may make.

Withered, became the root of my joy. The Path to the tavern is where?
So that in that water and air, springing and growing, we may make.

O heart! aid from the heart of profligates  seek; if not,
Difficult is the work. God forbid that a fault we should make.

But a little work effecteth the shade of the bud of little resolution (the imperfect Murshid):
Search for the auspicious shade of the Huma (the murshid, perfect and excellent), we shall make.

From the note (of melody) went my heart. Hafiz, sweet of tone, is where?
So that, with his words and Gghazals, harmony and melody, we may make.

377

ما شبی دست برآریم و دعایی بکنیم
غم هجران تو را چاره ز جایی بکنیم