(c. AD 1320–89; c. AH 720–91)
Khwaja Shamsuddin Muhammad Hafiz was born in Shiraz and is generally known as ‘Hafiz’, which designates someone who has learned the Qur’an by heart. The verse form that Hafiz excelled at was the ghazal, his beautiful lyric poems expressing Sufi themes.
He is thought to have received a traditional education and lectured on the Qur’an and other theological subjects, and he is one of those great poets whose work is open to both secular and mystical interpretation. One of the finest lyric poets of Persia, his work – especially his Divan – remains extremely popular in all Persian-speaking countries.
His elaborate tomb, the Hafezieh, is in the Musalla Gardens of Shiraz.
With your black lashes,
Many doubts in Belief you have sown.
Come, with your languid eyes
Give me that grief that makes me feel alone!
The two worlds to your beauty and to Saqi I bestow;
Through Love’s blessing, greater wealth I came to know.
Where are you my love? The nightingale sings at dawn.
Last night’s drunkenness and love I now recall, forlorn.
The night I die, I will straight to heaven ascend,
If I keep true to the flame of your Love, my friend.
The story of desire that I write and openly proclaim,
O Hafiz, it is not for the need of recognition or acclaim!
So long as the tavern and the glorious wine abound,
So long will I worship at that hallowed ground!
I dwell in the circle of the master giver of wine;
Loyal to him I was and to his will incline.
When you pass my grave, O traveller, pray,
For it is here that all the drinkers of the world
Come for pilgrimage each day.
On the dusty path where
Your feet have left their trace,
Discerning men still bow their heads
And sing your praise.
Away you arrogant puritan!
Between you and me
There is a veil
That shall remain eternally.
O you, whose heart has never turned to me,
My heart will forever be drawn to Thee.
O puritan, do not blame us sinners
From your pulpit high.
Who knows how you’ll end up
When you die?
When my eye enters the grave in Love of Thee,
Till doomsday Thine image is all that I will see.
Knowing Hafiz’s fate, it’s not surprising,
As he lacks such charms,
His Beloved will be in someone else’s arms!
Rise up, O Saqi! With the glimmering wine
Light up this empty glass of mine!
I see my lover’s face reflected in the cup,
Yet you, unaware, think I’m drunk with wine.
A heart that’s full of love can never die;
Eternal is its presence in this fleeting world.
So many beauties roam the world with pride,
But none can match my love’s grace or style.
If you pass my friend’s abode, O morning breeze,
Do give my love my message, please.
A corner of the tavern,
my place of worship;
The Wine-giver’s call,
my prayer.
Fear not my friend,
if music does not play
In the morning,
my sigh shall rise with the day.
Free from kings
and beggars alike,
dust of my Beloved’s
Doorstep will suffice.
The mosque or tavern,
wherever I went,
It’s you I sought.
No other thought
was my intent.
By death’s sword
I may be carried away,
Or else, I’m loyal
to my dying day.
From the day
I’ve sought you
The throne of the Sun
has been my abode.
It’s not in my power
not to sin, Hafiz,
But honesty demands
I own up to it!
Last night I dreamt
Of angels descending into the tavern;
Taking the clay of Adam,
They fashioned a cup
And the dwellers of heaven
Sat with me
And the heady brew was passed around.
Houris danced,
Thanks were offered to the Lord most high;
Friends had made amends,
The cup of thanks imbibed in ecstasy.
The sectarian path was left behind;
They had strayed from truth of unity
And followed trivial fantasies.
The heavens could not bear my debt
And wrote me as a madman in my fate.
But lovers bled their hearts
And on the face of the Beloved
Did a beauty spot create.
The fire that burns
In the flame of the lamp
Is not the fire;
It burns in the essence of
The moth and consumes him entire.
None has lifted the veil
From reality as, Hafiz, you have done.
You have unravelled the locks of
Poetry’s bride and with your skill adorned!
‘When shall I get to kiss thee?’ I asked.
‘By all means you can forever ask,’ she answered.
‘Your lips ask a heavy price,’ I said.
‘It’s a fair exchange for one so fair,’ she said.
‘What lips are worthy for your mouth and lips?’ I asked.
‘Only the discerning can this secret know,’ she answered.
‘Don’t worship idols, be with the Truth,’ I said.
‘In the Way of Love, both are allowed,’ she said.
I said, ‘The tavern helps to heal the heart.’
‘Blessed are those who heal the lonely heart,’ she answered.
‘It’s not religion, the priestly robe, the wine,’ I said.
‘But to the gnostic both lead to the Divine,’ she answered.
‘What use to an old man of youthful lips?’ I asked.
‘By such sweet kissing, he grows young!’ she answered.
‘When shall the bridegroom embrace the bride?’
‘When the stars are that way inclined.’
I said, ‘The prayer of Hafiz is for His glory.’
‘This is the prayer of angels too, in heaven,’ she answered.
In the company of the Wine-givers
I found God;
It’s strange indeed that in that darkness
I found Light.
O pilgrim of the holy place,
Don’t boast to me,
For you have only seen His House,
While He has shown Himself to me!
I yearned to
Reach and touch sweet beauty’s musky folds;
It’s merely a fancy,
A dream in error that I had.
A burning heart, tears,
sighs and weeping, endlessly;
All these are favours
That your love bestows on me.
In my mind I see your image
Come alive and your memory prevails.
What can I say? What I have seen
Beyond the Veil!
The Musk of China or Khutan1
Cannot compare with that fragrance fair
That the morning breeze brings to me
From your perfumed hair!
Friends, do not be so critical
Of Hafiz and his ways of love;
I see him
As a secret lover of God above.
The puritan left his solitude
Last night; to the tavern went,
Broke all his vows of piety
And drank wine to his heart’s content.
The love of his youth
Appeared as in a dream
And this ageing lover
Went mad with love.
The youth robbed him of
Reason and his chastity.
In pursuit of his Beloved, mad, deranged,
He was from kith and kin estranged.
The fire of the rose’s cheek
Burnt the nightingale’s heart;
The laughing flame
Tormented the devoted moth.
The Saqi’s beguiling eyes
Recited a magic spell;
Our circle of prayer
Turned into a drinker’s den.
The Sufi that yesterday
Was ranting against wine and cup,
Took a sip last night
Got drunk and became wise!
Now Hafiz’s destination
Is the place of worship of the Lord.
The heart has gone to the Beloved
The soul has gone to the only Love!
I’ve lost my heart.
My secret’s out.
O pure of heart!
My ship is stuck;
O wind, arise!
Perhaps the shore
Will greet our eyes.
Mere fantasy, this
Ephemeral world lasts only for a day;
It’s best to be with friends
And speak and pass the time away.
Last night
Amongst flowers and wine,
The nightingale sang
A song divine:
Bring forth the jug
O drinkers, rise!
In the two worlds
To gain peace of mind,
Love your friends
And to your enemies be kind.
I was not one
Chosen to roam
The pious way;
If You dislike that
Then alter my fate
I pray.
Be not vain, for you will
Burn like a candle’s flame.
That Beloved whom you so adore
Can turn molten rock to wax,
Will put all others to shame.
When destitution, need, grab hold of you
That is the time to dance and sing,
For often the world
Can turn a beggar into a king.
If the singer
Sings this song, perchance
Old pious men will
Rise and join the dance!
Hafiz did not
Of his choice wear
This wine-soaked cloak;
O puritan Sheikh, beware!
He is helpless;
It was thus ordained!
Good deeds
And I, a sinner,
We’re far apart;
On different plains,
A different way,
the way of the heart!
No common ground:
We drinkers here;
you puritans there!
The sermon and
The song of the lute!
How can the two compare?
It weighs upon my heart,
This lie of living
in fake purity.
Where is the Saqi?
Where the wine?
They’re worlds apart!
What will my enemies
Gain by staring at my
Beloved’s face so fair?
They are as dying lamps
And she the brightest Sun
beyond compare!
The thought of the Beloved
Drove out the thought
of days gone by.
Where did the vanity go?
Where is the anger gone?
Where is my pride?
Do not expect
From Hafiz
A life of peacefulness,
repose.
What is patience?
What is peace?
Who knows?
Anyone who knows the way to the tavern door
Would not waste his time knocking on other doors.
He who found the doorstep of the tavern,
Through wine, found the secret of heaven.
He who read the mystery in the cup of wine,
Found in the dust the secrets of powers divine.
We did not ask for mercy from the Saqi’s eyes;
He knows it’s natural to suffer in love.
Expect nothing from us but blind loyalty,
Madness unrelenting,
For in our creed, O Sheikh,
Reason and sanity are sins!
I cried so much
At the fate dealt out to me,
By the morning star.
The Sun is witness and the Moon
Knows it!
The story of
Hafiz and his drinking
Has spread far and wide;
The police and the king know it.
What is there to hide?
Worshipping the outer form,
O puritan,
You are unaware
Of my real state.
Say what you like,
I care not for
Your words of hate!
Whatever the traveller
Meets on this path
is for the good.
On this righteous way
No heart can go astray!
In this game of chess
Our pawn confronts
The rook with courage and grace.
In this game that lovers play,
The king takes second place!
Whoever wants to enter
Tell him, ‘Come.’
Whoever wants to leave
Can go as he please;
This Khanqah has no gate,
No gatekeeper, nor keys.
It’s our lack
Of form that
Makes the cloak
Unfit to wear;
Else Your blessings are
By no means small.
At the tavern’s door,
Lovers gather and meet.
The vainglorious have no place
On the wine-seller’s street.
Eternal is the blessing
Of the guide and master
Of Love’s street.
The puritan’s and the Mullah’s
Kindness, unreliable,
Ever-altering with his needs.
No need to take
The head of the table, Hafiz,
For the true Lover there is no shame.
He has no need for name or fame!
O Puritan Zahid!1
O puritan Zahid,
Do not find fault in
The drinkers at the inn.
You will not have to account
For another’s sin.
Whether I’m good or bad
It’s up to me;
Each shall reap
What he has sown
And he is free.
Each is seeking his Beloved,
Whether sober or drunk.
Every place is a place of Love,
Temple or mosque, mullah or monk.
It’s the dust of the tavern door
And my bowed head.
If the Beloved does not understand,
Say, ‘I have a stone to break my head.’
Ever hopeful of eternal grace, I live.
What do you know of who is good
And who is bad, behind the veil?
O Hafiz, if you have the wine cup
In your hand when you die,
It will take you straight
From the tavern to heaven most high.
Beauty radiated in eternity
With its light;
Love was born
And set the worlds alight.
It revealed itself to angels
Who knew not how to love;
It turned shyly towards man
And set fire to his heart.
Reason ventured to light
Its own flame and wear the crown,
But Your radiance
Turned the world
Of reason upside down.
Others got pleasure
As was their fate.
My heart was
Towards sadness inclined;
For me, sorrow was destined.
Beauty yearned to see itself;
It turned to man to sing its praise.
Hafiz wrote this song
Drunk with Love,
From a heart
Carrying a happy secret.
Ask not of me
The strait and narrow;
I am drunk.
And drinking
Is what I am known for
Since the moment of Elast.
Since I performed my
Ablution in the stream of Love
I have prayed to all that
Invokes God above.
Give me wine, O friend,
So I can tell you
The secrets of God’s will
And to you reveal
Who my Beloved is,
And whose fragrance
Makes me drunk and reel.
Here, the mountain
Is no bigger than the ant;
Turn not away
From the blessings
Of the Lord Divine,
O drinker of wine!
May you forever bloom,
For in the garden of my sight
No flower I see
Can match your beauty
Flowering free.
Through Your Love
Did Hafiz meaning gain.
The desire for union
With you is all that matters;
All else is vain!
With joy in my heart
I fearlessly say to all
I am a slave of Love
And free of the two worlds
Which hold men in thrall.
The life-giving shade,
The enticing houris,
And the heavenly pool,
I forgot them all
Once I found your street.
On my heart’s page
Is written the letter alif;
What can I do?
No other letter did my master teach!
Since I joined
The circle where
The worshippers of Love meet,
Each day another sorrow
Comes and greets my heart.
Wipe these tears
Off Hafiz’s face with your dark hair,
Or else this flood will take its toll
And leave him in despair.
It’s a
Rule
Given by the Master
From days of old:
Wine is forbidden,
Unless you have a lover
Or a friend.
I want to tear
This august robe of lies
I wear;
The company of liars
Is bad for the soul
And is a snare.
Yearning for a drop
From my lover’s lips
So sweet,
I’ve waited at the door
Of the tavern,
At her feet.
Perhaps she’s forgotten
The friendship we once had;
O morning breeze,
Remind her of the old days
And make our hearts glad.
Try some other place
To find a cure;
Love’s sickness
Is not cured
By the doctor’s medicine.
O Hafiz, mourn not
That you have no
Silver or gold; thank God.
What better wealth
Is there in life
Than pure intent
And spiritual health?
O king of beauty,
Turn your gaze
Upon this beggar
of yours.
Have pity
On this
Forlorn, helpless
Devotee
of yours.
The heart of this
Mystic yearns and longs
For your
life-giving glance.
With your dark
Mysterious eyes
Fulfil his desire,
make him dance!
The candle,
Moth, the rose,
The nightingale,
All are here
each and every one.
O friend,
Take pity
On my state.
I’m so alone!
How long
Will you
Your lovers deny?
For God’s sake,
Be our friend
And deny us not
Your beauty’s
infinite grace.
Listen not to the enemy’s
Accusations and gossip.
Be loyal to your
Devotee, your friend, Hafiz.
It’s better to pawn this for some wine,
This robe of piety I own.
It’s better to drown it in red wine,
This meaningless book of mine!
I’ve wasted my life,
But I know this much:
It’s better spent in the tavern,
Lying drunk.
I will not tell the story
Of the heart to people,
For to tell this tale
It’s better done with
Song and dance.
So long as fate
Is thus inclined to treat mankind,
It’s better that I love the Saqi
And worship the wine.
Since self-interest is
Far removed from the dervish,
It’s better to have a broken heart
And tearful eyes.
Since you are old, Hafiz,
Stay away from the tavern.
Drunkenness and lust
Best suit the young!
I am a Lover.
What need have I for religion or unbelief?
I am thirsty for wine,
What need have I for union or separation?
My qiblah and my prayer arch is my Beloved.
If not drunk, thus, what need I for drinking?
Since in the two worlds I find my Beloved,
What need have I for heaven and hell, of houris and slaves?
He that is steadfast in the path of Love
Has no need for sorrow or pain;
What need has he for balm and cures?
Everywhere I saw your face
And in every face I saw my Beloved’s trace.
I saw Him in myself.
In my beauty, I my lover’s beauty saw.
The prayer of the puritan
Is in the arch of the mosque;
The prayer of the Lovers
Is on the gallows!
In comparison to a drop of that wine, Hafiz,
All reason and sense are useless.