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from Poems From The Divan of Hafiz (1897)
translation by Gertrude Bell (1868-1926)

The Rhyme Maker
Hafiz
Hafiz
c.1320-1389


Theme:  Defending Wine


Special Notes:  Persian Wine Poetry
                                     Hafiz


more Hafiz at
vintagewinepoems.com
 
translations by Gertrude Bell
A flower-tinted cheek
Arise! and fill a golden goblet up
Arise, oh Cupbearer, rise!

Forget not when dear friend
From out the street of So-and-So
From the garden of Heaven
Hast thou forgotten
Lay not reproach at the drunkard's door

Mirth, Spring, to linger in a garden fair

My friend has fled

Not one is filled with madness
Oh Cup-bearer, set my glass afire

Singer, sweet Singer, fresh notes strew

The bird of gardens sang unto the rose
The breath of Dawn
The rose has flushed red
The rose is not fair
The secret draft of wine

What drunkenness is this
What is wrought in the forge
Where is my ruined life

Wind from the east


translations by Richard Le Gallienne 
Comrades, the morning breaks
Happy returns of this good day

Heavens! do you think this is a time

Last night, as half asleep I dreaming lay

My hermitage the tavern is

No! Saki – take the wine away

O, I've good news for you – the spring

Once more red wine

Saki, for God's love, come and fill

The Abbot of the Wine-House

Tis an unstable world

Two Gallons of old wine

What ails thee, Saki! Wine

When thus I sit with roses in my breast

With last night’s wine still singing


More English translations of Hafiz:
Song of Hafiz (unknown - 1875)
The Feast Of Spring (Whinfield - 1917)



Stop Button Clutter!
Not all the sum of earthly happiness
Hafiz (c. 1320-1389), Persian poet
translation by Gertrude Bell (1868-1926), British writer

Not all the sum of earthly happiness
Is worth the bowed head of a moment's pain,
And if I sell for wine my dervish dress,
Worth more than what I sell is what I gain!
Land where my Lady dwells, thou holdest me
Enchained; else Fars were but a barren soil,
Not worth the journey over land and sea,
Not worth the toil!

Down in the quarter where they sell red wine,
My holy carpet scarce would fetch a cup –
How brave a pledge of piety is mine,
Which is not worth a goblet foaming up!
Mine enemy heaped scorn on me and said :
" Forth from the tavern gate,!" Why am I thrust
From off the threshold?  is my fallen head
Not worth the dust?

Wash white that travel-stained sad robe of thine!
Where word and deed alike one color bear,
The grape's fair purple garment shall outshine
Thy many-colored rags and tattered gear.
Full easy seemed the sorrow of the sea
Lightened by hope of gain hope flew too fast!
A hundred pearls were poor indemnity,
Not worth the blast.

The Sultan's crown, with priceless jewels set,
Encircles fear of death and constant dread;
It is a head-dress much desired and yet
Art sure 'tis worth the danger to the head?
'Twere best for thee to hide thy face from those
That long for thee ; the Conqueror's reward
Is never worth the army's long-drawn woes,
Worth fire and sword.

Ah, seek the treasure of a mind at rest
And store it in the treasury of Ease;
Not worth a loyal heart, a tranquil breast,
Were all the riches of thy lands and seas!
Ah, scorn, like Hafiz, the delights of earth,
Ask not one grain of favor from the base,
Two hundred sacks of jewels were not worth
Thy soul's disgrace!


#21 from Poems From The Divan of Hafiz (1897)


Poems From The Divan of Hafiz (1897)
translation by Gertrude Bell (1868-1926)

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