Early morning, drunk from the night before
Wine in hand, asked the harpist to play more.
For my mind's journey, sent forth supplies of wine
From Existence City, sent him to explore.
Beautiful wine-seller gave me a sip of wine
I was safe from trickster Fate's horror and gore.
The wine-bearer to me said, with arched brows,
O target, arrows of reproach on you pour
You won't gird your waist with such binding belt
If you see that it is yourself who becomes sore.
Go and lay this trap of yours for another bird
Phoenix, at great heights will fly and soar.
Yet bind, belt, and trap are from Kingly grace
To adore itself and show endless amour.
Friend and player and bearer are all He
Water and clay to this path are but the door.
Give wine and let our ship happily sail
Upon this endless ocean without a shore.
Hafiz, our existence is a metaphor
This dreamy tale we tour and implore.
© Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
January 17, 2000
سـحرگاهان کـه مخـمور شبانه
گرفـتـم باده با چنگ و چغانـه
نـهادم عقـل را ره توشه از می
ز شـهر هسـتیش کردم روانـه
نـگار می فروشم عـشوهای داد
کـه ایمـن گشتـم از مکر زمانه
ز ساقی کـمان ابرو شـنیدم
کـه ای تیر ملامت را نـشانـه
نـبـندی زان میان طرفی کمروار
اگر خود را بـبینی در میانـه
برو این دام بر مرغی دگر نـه
کـه عـنـقا را بلند است آشیانه
که بندد طرف وصل از حسن شاهی
کـه با خود عشق بازد جاودانـه
ندیم و مطرب و ساقی همه اوست
خیال آب و گـل در ره بـهانـه
بده کـشـتی می تا خوش برانیم
از این دریای ناپیداکرانـه
وجود ما مـعـماییسـت حافـظ
که تحقیقش فسون است و فسانه