We dont see the help of anyone, what happened to the friends, when did the
friendship end, what happened to the lovers
Kind-hearted people of this land of kindness, when did the city of companions come up,
what happened to a
hundred thousand flowers bloomed and the call of a bird did not arise,
what happened to the nightingales, what happened to thousands, they have
thrown a ball of success and dignity among them, no one enters the
field, what happened to the horsemen, the
making of venom does not make the horsemen pleasant except its incense, no one has the
taste of drunkenness, what happened to the drunkards, the
keeper of divine secrets, no one knows,
silently, from whom do you ask? What happened to the days around the days
Poem : Hafez
Taraneh (Remember) The
Day of Connection of Lovers Remember
those days Remember those days
Remember the bitterness of sorrow like poison Remember the joy of the
eaters,
even though the friends who graduated from my memory
of me, remember them thousands of times
, in this bond and without
the efforts of those righteous people, remember those righteous people,
although there are a hundred rivers from my eyes, the river
of the gardeners is alive Remember the
poetry : Hafez
Taraneh (Bagh-e-Nazar)
The one who wants to perish me and I want his health, no matter what he does, no
one should blame him, his reproach
is the garden of recreation and thats it, he does not give fruit to anyone except the apple of his tree, I
wish you would see him again on the Day of
Resurrection, it
was his sin, I will kill him to compensate him
. When a clever person is trapped, he must endure the
burning of the world with expediency, what is the work of the
king, what prudence and reflection must be
based on piety and knowledge in the path of infidelity,
the corridor has a hundred arts, trusting in
it with such hair and brilliance, the opinion of the forbidden game,
whoever on jasmine and the curl of hyacinth, he must be
pampered, the drunken narcissus of the wind,
this heart is angry until that wrinkle and the claw, he must be
a butler in the circulation of the procrastination. In order to go a few
rounds when he falls with lovers, who should he be,
Hafez so that he does not drink the wind without singing, the poor
lover why he has to have so many luxuries, the poem
: Hafez,
my heart is shattered and I am surprised that I am a dervish
who came to me
like a moth, I tremble over my faith,
my heart is in the bow of my eyebrows, the infidel creed is the imagination of the sea, what is the name of this
impossible-thinking drop,
that witty eyelashes of well-being? Drink
water on the head of the sting
from the sleeve of the physicians, let the blood drip from the sleeve of a thousand doctors, warm
to the experience, put a hand on the heart of the beard,
go to the alley of the tavern, weeping and shattered,
because I am ashamed of my harvest,
neither Omar Khidr nor King Alexander remains, the
quarrel over the world, do not let the dervish not
reach it, the hand of any beggar, the keeper of a treasure to the
foam of the treasure of Qarun More
Poems: Keeper
