With clear wine, a wise one washed his behind
Early morning in tavern, who had homage on his mind.
When the golden cup of sun, descended from the skies
Curve of the new moon, of the curved cup would remind.
Happy is the one whose prayers and needs stem from his pain
With tears of his eyes and blood of his veins, cleans his behind.
The head priest leading prayers should be the one
Whose shrinking gown, blood of the daughter of vine defined.
My heart bought upheavals for the locks of that flowing hair
I know not that in this trade, what profit it could ever find.
If the head priest asks for me and my kind
Tell him Hafiz, with wine, is baptizing his behind.

Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
January 11, 2000

به آب روشن می عارفی طهارت کرد
عـلی الصباح که میخانه را زیارت کرد
همین که ساغر زرین خور نهان گردید
هـلال عید بـه دور قدح اشارت کرد
خوشا نماز و نیاز کسی که از سر درد
بـه آب دیده و خون جگر طهارت کرد
امام خواجه که بودش سر نـماز دراز
بـه خون دختر رز خرقه را قصارت کرد
دلم ز حلقه زلفش به جان خرید آشوب
چه سود دید ندانم که این تجارت کرد
اگر امام جماعت طلـب کـند امروز
خبر دهید که حافظ به می طهارت کرد

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