Khwaja Shams ud-Din Muhammad Hafez-i Shiraza, the acknowledged master of the ghazal form in the Persian canon, was born sometime between 1317 and 1325. He died in 1389. His poems are among the most popular in the Persian-speaking world, where one is likely to hear verses of his recited or sung in the bazaar, on the radio, and at spiritual gatherings. His tomb, in the city of Shiraz, is a site of pilgrimage, and people gather there to read his work, to have their fortunes told in a tradition known as “fale hafez,”1 and even to pray. Indeed, when I visited Hafez’ tomb in the summer of 2008, a man knelt there and prayed, first alone and then leading a group of others, during the entire time I was there. This ghazal was translated by Elizabeth T. Gray, Jr. and was published in her book, The Green Sea of Heaven.
Ghazal 10
Curls disheveled, sweating, laughing, and drunk,
shirt torn, singing ghazals, flask in hand,his eyes seeing a quarrel, his lips saying, “Alas!”,
last night at midnight he came can sat by my pillow.He bent his head to my ear and said, sadly,
“O my ancient lover, are you sleeping?”The seeker to whom they give such a cup at dawn
is an infidel to love if he will not worship wine.O ascetic, go, and don’t quibble with those who drink the dregs,
for on the eve of Creation this was all they gave us.What he poured in our cup we drank,
whether the mead of heaven or the wine of drunkenness.The wine cup’s smile and his knotted curl
have broken many vows of repentance, like that of Hafez.
Cross posted on The Poetry in the Politics, The Politics in the Poetry.
- The tradition is similar to what some people do with the Bible; they open the book to any page, pick a verse at random and then see what that verse has to say about their lives. [↩]
