ترجمه غزل #شماره_317 #زبان_انگلیسی با ترجمه #هنری_ویلبر_فورس 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 Aloud I say it, and with heart of glee: "Love's slave am I, and from both worlds am free." Can 1, the bird of sacred gardens, tell. Into this net of chance how first I fell? My place the Highest Heaven, an angel born, I came by Adam to this cloister lorn. Sweet huris, Tuba's shade, and Fountain's brink Fade from my mind when of thy street I think. My Loved one's Alif-form stamps all my thought: Save that, what letter has my master taught? Knows no astrologer my star of birth Lord, 'neath what planet bore me Mother Earth? Since with ringed ear I've served Love's house of wine, Griefs gratulations have each hour been mine. My eyeball's man drains my heart's blood; 'tis just: In man's own darling did I place my trust. Let HAFIZ' tear-drops By thy lock be dried, For fear I perish In their rushing tid https://t.me/Hafiz_1400 https://eitaa.com/Hafiz_1400

ترجمه غزل #شماره_149 #زبان_انگلیسی با ترجمه #هنری_ویلبر_فورس 🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎 Save the love of those moon of face, a path my heart taketh not. To it, in every way, I give counsel; but it kindleth not. O counsel-utterer! or God’s sake, utter the tale of the Saki’s writing.For, a picture more beautiful than this, our imagination, taketh not. Come O beautiful Saki! Bring colorful cup. For a thought inside us, taketh better than this not. Secretly, I drink a goblet; and, men think it a book. Wonderful if the book, this hypocrisy’s tire kindleth not. One day, I shall burn this gilded darvish garment, Which, for a single cup, the Pir of the wine-sellers taketh not. The pure-players have purities with wine, for the reason that in this jewel, save truthfulness a picture taketh not. Thy face and eyes this beautiful, you say forget it. Go! This meaningless scold enters my head not. The counsel-utterer of profligates, who hath war with God’s decree: His heart, I see much straitened: perhaps, the cup he taketh not. In the midst of weeping, I laugh. Because, like the candle in this assembly, The fiery tongue is mine; but, it, it kindleth not. How happily Thou madest prey of my heart! Of Thy intoxicated eye, I boast: For, better than this, the wild birds, a person taketh not. In respect of our need and of the independence of the true Beloved, is speech: O heart! what profit sorcery, when in the Heart-Ravisher, it taketh not. One day, like Sekandar, I shall bring to hand that mirror: If, this tire, seize it, for a moment, it kindleth not. O Benefactor! for God’s sake, a little pity. For, the darvish of the head of Thy Street: Knoweth not another door; another Path, taketh not. For this verse, fresh and sweet, I wonder the King of kings: Why, Hafez, head to foot in gold, he taketh not. https://eitaa.com/Hafiz_1400 https://t.me/Hafiz_1400

ترجمه غزل #شماره_470 #زبان_انگلیسی با ترجمه #هنری_ویلبر_فورس 🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎 1 Alas! full, full of pain is my heart, a plaister! O God! through loneliness, to life my heart hath come; a companion! 2 From the swift moving sky, hope of ease, hath who? O Saki! a cup bring, so that I may rest a while. 3 Arise. To the saucy ones of Samarkand, let us give our heart; For, from its breeze, the fragrance of the river Mulian cometh anon. 4 To a wit, I said: " Behold these circumstances." He laughed and said: "A work, difficult; a state, the father of wonders; perturbed, a world." 5 In the Pit of patience, for that candle of Chigil, I consumed; Of our state, the King of the Turkans is careless. Where a Rustam? 6 In the Path of love-play, calamity is safety and ease; Wounded be that heart that with pain desireth a plaister! 7 No path, into the street of profligates, is for the man of desire and indulgence A wayfarer is necessary, a world-consumer; not a raw one, without a grief. 8 In this dusty world, to hand cometh not a man; It is necessary to make another world, and anew a man. 9 Hafiz! before love's independence what weigheth thy weeping? For, in this deluge, the seven seas appear a little night-dew https://eitaa.com/Hafiz_1400 https://t.me/Hafiz_1400