SECTION I (WITH ALIF AS THE TERMINAL)

LYRIC 1 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O cupbearer (beloved living master)! Commence the round of the cup (Divine liquor) and
serve me the wine (gnosis); for, the beginning of Jove looked easy and simple, but all sorts of
diffculties (knotty problems) have cropped up (cf. yeh ishq nahin aasaan, Itna hi samajh lijey;
ek aag kaa darya hai, aur doob kar jaana hai- this passion is not easy, know only this much: it's
like a river of fire and one can only traverse through it, submerged into it).

By the fragrance of the zephyr, which is informed by the musky, curved locks of that beloved,
the knots of my problems would be resolved In style by that musky fragrance,' the memory of
which has made my heart so blood-soaked.

If the pir-i-mughan (the living master, the perfect saint, the cupbearer in the assembly of
drinkers, i.e. the gnostics) asks you to dye your prayer-mat in wine (of gnosis), do it (promptly),
for while the seeker is not conversant with the ways and wonts of the (spiritual), track, the living
master (the guide) knows it all (and would prescribe what the seeker has to do or not to do).

What pleasure and peace can I have in the intervening stages on the path to my sweetheart (the
Lord, whose plenipotentiary my master is), for every moment, the ringing bells (the inarticulate
sound that the seeker hears in the region of Thousand-Petalled Lotus or Alam-i-Jabroot) is
sounding the tocsin, "Gird up your loins" {i.e. get ready to ascend; don't halt on the way in
complacency).

(For me,) the night is dark (i.e. I am only groping, bound up as I am in nescience), there is the
dread of the billows (of the ocean of this samsara or world, full of crocodiles and leviathans) and
the vortex (delusion) so dreadful '(is there to hinder my" ascension)! How can those, who are
sitting light on the shores (the spectators, friends and relatives who counsel prudence and ask me
to abandon this hazardous love adventure) know our (dire) straits?

My conceit and self-concern have only pushed all my works towards ill-fame; how can that
secret (of my passion or ishq for my living master) which has become the talk of all assemblies
(of world-lings) remain hidden (any more)?

O Hafiz! If you (ardently) desire presence before His Majesty (the perfect living master), don't
disappear from his sight: when you get united with your beloved (the living master), divorce this
world and forsake it (completely).

LYRIC 2 (13 VERSES)

1-13. O you, from whose luminous visage the moon or beauty has derived its radiance and
glory ! The dimple pit or your (beauteous) chin (chah-e-zaqan) is the sheen of beauty (itself)!

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My spirit has come up my lips (about to escape my physical frame) in its firm resolve to have a
glimpse of you (deedar). O my belovcd! What is your decision? Shall it escape (my body) or
shall it go back (to its seat, i.e. will you let me have your glimpse or shall I give up the ghost, in
despair)?

O Lord' When will the object of my quest come to hand-the object of becoming hand-in-hand
(clasping each other s hands) so that my assembled (determined and composed) heart may
become joined to your locks (or hair) that scatter about (and disperse) my heart's composure.

In the traversal of your narcissistic (beauteous) eyes, none (on whom your eyes fell) remained
safe and secure (i.e. everyone on whom your sight fell, became crazy in love for you); for me,
the best course would be to sell off my steadfastness (asceticism) to those who are inebriated of
you (i.e. who are your impassioned lovers).

It is quite on the cards that my somnolent luck may be stirred: for. O beloved. your refulgent
countenance has sprinkled water (of life) on my eyes (i.e. has opened my third eye).

(O my beloved !) Do send me a bouquet of roses, plucked from your (rosy) countenance, along
with zephyr; (by this), possibly, I could smell the fragrance of the dust of your fragrant garden
(your congregation).

By my soul and by your souls, O comrades, tell my heart-ravisher (dildaar) that my heart is
playing foul with me (i.e. fomenting lascivious thoughts which can be extirpated only by the
soul-lifting breath of my beloved master); I adjure you in the name or my soul and your souls.

O cupbearers of the drinking party of Jamshed (a ruler of the Persia who was punished for
bragging that he was immortal by being changed into human form, and became a great king of
Persia), May you live long even though in your era (time, dauraun, our cup (heart) is not
(wholly) filled by (spiritual) liquor.

O zephyr! Convey the message from us to the residents of Yezd (a city in central Iran) : "The
head of those unconversant with Truth (God) is a ball in your playground.

Although we are far away from the board of nearness, our attention is not remote from you. We
are the bondsmen of your king and we are your admirers.

When you pass by us, keep your skirt removed from the dust and the blood (scattered on the
way), for, on this way there are many dead (bodies) littered, who have sacrificed themselves unto
you."

O my lofty, and Emperor of exalted stars (my master)! For the sake of God, encourage us by
paying your (kind) attention to us, in order that like the bent firmament. I may also bend and kiss
your (exalted) mansion.

Hafiz implores ! Do hear and bless him by showering tranquility on him (i.e. on his soul), so that
your candy-scattering lips (i. e. sweet discourses) may become my daily potion.

LYRIC 3 (9 VERSES)

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1-9. If that Shirazi Turk (beloved master) were to hold my heart, in return for the sight of his
facial beauty spot, I would sacrifice the entire Samarkand (symbol of beauty) and Bokhara
(symbol of gnosis).

O (my) cupbearer (beloved master)! Give me the rest of the (Divine) liquor, for even in Paradise,
it would not be possible to be anywhere near the bank of the river of Water of life and the
traversal of gnostic levels that the meditation-mat furnishes here (in meditation on your
beauteous form).

I cry for justice that this cheeky, saucy, sweetly beloved (master), who has taken the entire city
by storm (i.e., has enthralled the whole city), has plundered my heart of its patience, as the
desirers of war-booty pillage (the enemy territory).

Of course, the beauty of our beloved (master) is unconditioned and independent of our deficient
(imperfect) love; how does a beauteous visage need water (freshness) and colour (sheen) from
beauty-spots and hair?

When I witnessed that daily augmenting (deepening) beauty of Joseph, I had become certain that
(one of these days) craze (for Joseph) would 'drag Zalikha out of veil (so that her passion for
Joseph would become the talk of the world).

(O spectator!) Talk of the minstrel (the disciple-in-chief of the beloved master) and the vintage
wine (he serves), and do not seek the mystery (of love) from this (fleeting, fleshly, phenomenal)
world; none has been able to resolve this riddle of (gnostic) love by intellection or dianoetic
wisdom and none would ever.

O my dear lovely sweetheart, dearer to me than life' Listen to my counsel, for the righteous and
auspicious youth regard the counsel of an old savant as dearer than life.

You have dubbed me as a miscreant and I am happy (about it) ; may God forgive you for your
speaking so nicely and neatly; that bitter comment is the right and appropriate answer to one who
(shamelessly) chews the ruby, ruddy, candy-like lips (of his beloved master).

O Hafiz! You have recited the lyric (love song) and have strung the pearls (of gnosis), and now
sing it mellifluously for the firmament would sprinkle the chains of the Pleiades (the Great Bear)
on your (lovely, gnostic) compositions.

LYRIC 4 (12 VERSES)

1-6. (I wonder) who is going to convey this imploration (of mine) to the (immediate) attendants
of the (spiritual) Sultan (i.e. the living master), saying: "In consideration of' your kingship don't
drive this fakir out of your sight.

O beloved (master)! What a terrible fate (Qayamat) you have spelt for us that while you have
manifested a face as radiant as the moon, you have also shown up a stone- cutting heart for your
lovers (who stand doomed at this spectacle).

I seek refuge in God from (my) rival with a devilish disposition; possibly, that splendid shooting
star (the beauteous and awesome countenance of my beloved master) may come to my rescue for
the sake of God.

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When you show up your luminous visage, you burn out a whole realm (of your lovers); what
advantage you gain by your not looking after (your lovers), (O master)?

Your black eye- brows are pointers to your blood-letting; think of their fascination, a beloved,
and don't make a mistake (for your eyebrows are out to slay us)!

Throughout the night, I am only hoping that the morning zephyr would serve me by conveying
the message of my love to my beloved.

7-12. O beloved (master) ! What would it matter to you if you manage to fetch the painful heart
of your lover, wounded by separation from you, into union with you?

You have burgled our necessitous heart, tied in the clamp of your locks (of hair)! Don't smash
our fragile heart, and attend to, and caress this beggar (your lover, O master!).

By the fascination of your intoxicating eyes, (my) painful heart is soaked in blood; for the sake
of God, O heart-ravishing idol cast a kindly eye on his plight!

(Tell me) when the physician of those in pain is the ruby-like lip of the beloved, then, where will
the painful heart of (your lover) look for this medicine?

(O someone!) Apprise the beloved (master) of the (sad) plight of his lover; may be that some
(soul-lifting) fragrance of his locks (of hair) would reach our nostrils.

For the sake of God, give a draught (of Divine liquor) to Hafiz, the early riser, for the morning
prayer is bound to influence you (favourably).

LYRIC 5 (6 VERSES)

1-6. Since the day, your beauty has given all invitation to the lovers for union with you, (their)
hearts and souls have become afflicted under the impact of your locks (of hair) and your beauty
spot.

None else in the world, save the martyrs of Karbala (the holy city of Iraq, the site of battle
between Yazid's army and imam Hussain), has ever seen the tribulation which the spirits of your
lovers is bearing in separation from you.

If our Turk (our beloved master) is indulging in ecstasy and rapture (gay abandon), then, O my
life, you must, at first abandon (spurious) abstinence and asceticism (for these are no way to
attain to the union with the beloved whose only concern is unmixed, undiluted love).

O heart! Consider the five days of (spiritual) delight as a rarity, for it is the assembly of (gnostic)
pleasure, the season of gaiety and the hour of ecstasy.

In my love for him (i.e. for my beloved master) I got nothing save grief; as it is, with whom
shall I sit and speak of the mystery of my (afflicted) heart?

O Hafiz! If you can lay your hands on kissing the feet of the king (the living master), you would
have attained to the honour and exaltation in both the realms (this phenomenal realm and the
realm beyond).

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LYRIC 6 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O beloved (master)! How long will you wizen me by the pain of separation (from you)? For
a moment comfort me by union with you.

(It seems that) you had always wanted to keep me a captive of separation (from you)! At long
last, you have witnessed me in the state that you desired (for me).

(But I can tell you that) even for a little while I cannot withdraw myself from union with you;
and I say this, for in this world, I have none as my own, save you.

I am bewildered in that how can I pass my life without you; in as much as because of the grief
caused by separation from you, I cannot eat or sleep even for a moment?

I am consigned to the Corner of grief, and except for lamentation and sigh, I have no grief-
sharing companion, nor one who can articulate my expression of grief.

I was ever rapturous in union with you, but now, because of separation from you, I have nothing
to do save resort to lamentation.

O Hafiz! Don't wonder if that unkindly moon, by the pain of separation from him, were to kill
me off by grief.

LYRIC 7 (14 VERSES)

1-7. O hearty ones (lovers)! In the name of God, I tell you that my heart is slipping out of my
hands (i .e. the zest of my love is becoming uncontrollable); I fear that my secret would become
exposed (by my distracted state).

The ten-day attachment with this fleeting realm is a mere tale (a fiction), a mere talisman; in this
short span, O beloved (master), find time to do good to your comrades.

We are like a wrecked ship; O favourable wind (the Divine impulse in the master)', blow!'
Possibly, we will be able to have a look at that intimate beloved (living master).

Last night, in the assembly of roses and vintage wine (gnostic discourses in the congregation of
the living master), how sweetly the bulbul (the advanced devotee of the master) warbled (spoke)!
O inebriated ones, get me the chalice and join me!

O master of munificence, in consideration of my salutations to you, one of these days, do

distribute the poor-due (i.e. a tiny portion of your gnostic grace) out of the inexhaustible store of
your (gnostic) beauty amongst the destitute beggars (your lovers)!

The entire comfort and satisfaction in both the worlds is the expression of just two words: favour
to friends, and fair treatment to foes.

(O my beloved master!) You have not even allowed me to pass through the street of goodly
reputation; if you don't prefer it, so be it, but then; do radically alter my destiny (so that
notwithstanding my evil reputation as acrazy lover, I may get united with you perennially).

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8-14. The cup of Jamshed (my living master) is the perfect (Sikandar) mirror (the mirror of
human salvation-speculum hormanae salvationis detailing the story from the fall of Lucifer to
'the redemption of man); O pharisaical abstinent, look into it, so that the details of the ancient
kingdom of Darius I (521-486 BC), may become exposed to you.

Don’t disobey the beloved master or in his modesty (though not in anger) he would burn you out
like a candle, for that heart-ravisher (dilbar) has a palm in which even a cutting stone becomes
soft as wax.

If the minstrel of my friends (i.e. the disciple-in-chief of my master) were to sing this Persian
lyric (of mine), he would move the old righteous personages into the state of whirling dancing
(in ecstasy).

That bitter wine which the false Sufis find as bitter and unholy, the root of all mischief and
miscreance (but which is pure Divine liquor, vintage wine of gnosis) that for us is more
agreeable and comforting than kissing the ruddy faces of comely virgins.

When you are in dire straits, engross yourself in spiritual) rapture and ecstasy, for this elixir of
life makes a Korah (Qaaroon) of a beggar (i.e. it will make him a spiritual magnate).

(O seeker!) Announce that the beloveds (saints) of Iran are the bestowers of (spiritual) life; O
cupbearer (my master), give this glad tidings to the old righteous folks (the wiseacres)!

O sheikh claiming a clean skirt (i.e. O worldly-wise)! This wine-soaked khirqah (mantle), Hafiz
has not put on at his own; take it that I am helpless.

LYRIC 8 (10 VERSES)

1-5. O my gnostic comrades! Yesterday, our ritualistic preacher (pharisaical pir, righteously
hypocritical), came down from the mosque to the gnostic bar (where gnostic drinks arc served).
Now tell me, after this what is next; what will you do now? (cf. kal raat maikadey mein ajab
hadsaa hua, Zahid merey hisaab mein pee kar chala gaya: "Last night a bizarre incident
occurred at the bar: the pharisaic came and drank in my account!’’)

(One alternative is that) in the drinking bouts of the magians (i.e. the gnostics), we also become
their co-sharers; this because, in the pre-eternal, our destiny has been moulded like this (i.e. we
are damned to quaff the gnostic wine and violate the alast contract). The other alternative is that
since we are only mureeds (disciples), how can we turn our faces towards the Kaaba, while our
religious instructor (the pharisaic) has turned his face towards the wine-fermenting furnace?

If the dianoetic intellect (of the pharisaic) were to discover the extent to which our heart in the
captivity of the locks of our beloved is gay and happy, the (worldly) wise ones would become
crazy for our chain (of love for our beloved master).

O my beloved! Your beauteous face has revealed to us a (Divine) verse out of your grace; as it is,
in our account, there is naught save your favour and ravishing) beauty.

6-10. O master! 1 wonder as to what effect would my fire-raining sigh and the burning of our
nightly lamentation produce on your stony heart, during a particular night.

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For the fowl of our heart, with great difficulty and reluctance, a prey of rest and respite had got
into our net; but alas, you loosened your locks (of hair) and our prey (i.e. our tranquility) has
slipped out of our hands (i.e. once again your love has supplanted all respite and tranquility from
our hearts, making us distracted).

The wind touched your locks (so that they opened out); and the world (of our consciousness)
became dark; in our love for your locks, O beloved, we don't have anything more than this share
(distraction, pain and suffering caused by separation from you).

O my love (master)! The arrow of our sigh can penetrate and pass through the celestial sphere;
beware, take pity on your own spirit and take precaution and save yourself from our arrow.

O my gnostic comrade (my master)! I will also stay put on the portal of (your) tavern like Hafiz,
for our pharisaic (the so-called abstinent) has become a settler of the ruinous wine-fermenting
furnace (of yours).

LYRIC 9 (13 VERSES)

1-7. For the fragrant garden, it is yet again the bloom of youth (i.e. the perfect master has again
become manifest to enliven the congregation of earnest seekers); the glad tidings of the bloom of
the rose (the master) reaches the mellifluous bulbul (the lover of the rose-like master).

O zephyr! If you happen to pass by the youth of the garden (the distinguished - disciples of the
master), convey our assurances of good faith and loyal service to the cypress, the rose and basil
(the lofty, sweet and splendid gnostic seekers).

O the one (i.e. my master) who has set his bat of pure ambergris on the moon! Don’t turn me
back, for I am distracted and anxious (worried and tense).

I fear lest those who deride and mock at the drinkers of dregs, should assign their faith to the
cause of (gnostic) tavern.

Make friends with the men of God (perfect saints), for in the ark of Noah (a man of God), there
is that dust too which does not treat the (dreadful) flood even as a little (drop of) water.

Stir your stumps from this fluctuating abode (the perishable, fleeting phenomenal world) and
don't seek bread (i.e. staple food from the Wheel of Time), for this stingy (Wheel of Time), at
long last, kills (starves) the guest (who feeds himself on the baneful food of this vicious
phenomenal world and remains starved of the spiritual pabulum).

If the chandelier of the vintner (i.e. the gnostic wine-dealer) were to show up, the (Divine) light
of this order, then I will convert my eyelids into a broom for sweeping the door of the (gnostic)
bar.

8-13. If you keep on circling around the contingents, you will not be able to acquaint yourself
with even one' single subtlety of the mysteries of existence (wajood):

One whose sleeping chamber, at long last, is the grave made of two handfuls of dust, tell him
that he does not have to build up castles on the firmament (i.e. in the air, living on his
phantasmagoria born of conceit and delusion).

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O my moon of Cannan (Palestine, where Joseph was born), (i.e. my Joseph or beloved)! The
throne of Egypt has become your pedestal (your own estate); now is the hour that you bid adieu
to the prison (discard sense of arrestation and restraint).

O my beloved! In the matter of your locks I don't quite know what craze you have that you have
distracted and dishevelled your musk-sprinkling locks (in this wise).

(O gnostic strivcr!) The realm of freedom and the corner of contentment (i.e. the abode of the
supreme master) is such a treasure which no sultan can attain by dint of sword.

O Hafiz! Quaff the (Divine) wine and become ecstatic and remain enraptured, but like others (i.e.
like the pharisaics) don't make the holy Koran a tricky trap by putting false construction on it.

LYRIC 10 (11 VERSES)

1-6. O cupbearer (beloved master)! By the luminescence of your (gnostic) vintage wine, illumine
my cup (heart and soul). O minstrel (disciple-in-chief)! Sing (in praise of the perfect master) for
our business pertaining to this (phenomenal) world has come good according to our wishes.

I have beheld the reflection of the visage of (my) beloved in the cup (of my heart), by the
delicious flavour of the wine I have drunk.

O ignoramus! It is only so long as our cypress-like tall and sauntering beloved does not show up
his luminescence, that the charisma and preen of other lofty-statured beloveds (saints and sages)
remains impressive.

He whose heart (soul) has become revived by the love (for the beloved master), never perishes
(i.e. he becomes immortal); our immortality has become firmly planted in the annals of the
world.

In the eye of our heart- ravishing beloved (master), ecstasy is held as good; 'tis for this reason
that he has entrusted our rein in the hands of ecstasy.

I fear, lest on the day of reckoning, the lawful loaf of the sheikh (pharisaic's lawful
prescriptions), from our unlawful water (i.e. our lust) should overwhelm us (i.e. lest we should
fall a prey to the wiles and guiles of the hypocritically righteous preachers).

7-11. O zephyr! Should you pass through the rose-garden of my comrades (the congregation of
my master and his earnest disciples), do put up our message (of love and our apprehensions)
before the beloved (master).

Do tell him: "Why do you deliberately leave out my name from your memory? That day is fast
coming when you would not have to remember our name" (for we would have merged unto
him).

In my love for the cypress (beloved master). in the wise of red anemone (lala), my heart has
become h is prisoner; O fowl of fortune, when would you come to be possessed by me (and me
alone)?
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The river of the azure firmament (celestial regions) and the boat of the new moon (nukta-i-sveda
at the sixth ganglion. See verse 6 in Lyric 2l)7, with terminal of daal) are submerged in the rare
gifts conferred by Haji Qawam-ud-din (the minister of Ishaq, at whose banquet, Hafiz saw the
reflection of the firmament and the new moon in his cup).

O Hafiz! Shed the grain (drops) of tears from the eyes, for that may tempt the fowl of union
(wisaal) into our trap (i.e. O Hafiz, cry with passion in the remembrance of the beloved master so
that you may attain to union with him)!

LYRIC 11 (10 VERSES)

1-2. O cupbearer! Rise and give me the cup (i.e. O master! Make me quaff the wine of your
gnostic discourses}, and throw dust on the head of the torture caused by the Wheel of Time!

Hand me the cup of (Divine) liquor so that from my head I may throw out the attachment for this
bluish jacket (i.e. for this body, amber cheer or dalq-azraq). (Refer to Sar Bachan, Poetry,
Volume Il, Soami Bagh, Agra, Edition 1978, Discourse 35, Hymn 2, Verse 6, p. 272 : ambar
cheer pitambar jodey ; bhent kiye mainey haathi ghode" I have surrendered all my corporeal
instruments, all elephants and horses (i.e. senses, ego and monas), All the five elements
whichconstitute the body (cheer, i.e. cloth or cover) are created by Brahmn and Maya. The
current of maya is yellow or peet, and that of Kal is bluish (amber or azure). The word ambar
refers to the gross body of man while pitambar refers to the entire body- gross, astral and causal.
See my "The Guru in Indian Mysticism, Agra, 1994, p. 163 and p. 167, n. 32.).

3-10. Although for the (worldly)wise, this (bold and impudent love of mine for my beloved
(master) is disreputable but then, we (the lovers, par excellence) have no desire for name and
fame.

Do give me the (spiritual) drink (that would induce humility in me), for how long shall I put on
airs (intended to impress others)? Let the despicable carnal mind (of mine) bite the dust (struck
from its horse of pride and be slain).

The smoke of the sighs of my burning breast has burnt out these raw lovers, frozen on the
(spiritual) track.

Neither amongst the classes nor in the masses (the hoi polloi), can I locate anyone who can be
the confidant of the secrets of the fascinated heart (dil-i-shaidaa).

I am happily disposed towards that beloved (master) who has comforted my heart and who, by
one stroke, has carried away all comfort from my heart.

He that has beheld that silver-bodied cypress (my beloved muster, even once) would not even
look at another cypress (the pretenders) in the garden (the crowd of fake saints).

O seeker ! (If) you passed over the worries and cares of this (fleshly, despicable) world, eat
happily and drink (whatever comes your way) and keep the fleeting time in good humour.

O Hafiz! Endure patiently the hardships that visit you day and night; at long last, you are bound
to attain your ultimate end.

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LYRIC 12 (5 VERSES)

1-5. O cupbearer! Let go the weighty cup (your valuable discourses) from your hand (i.e. give a
free rein to your subtle gnostic discourses) so that I may pick it up and may pass through this
perishable, jumpy realm (jahan, from jahanneedan; leap and jump. moving nervously, jerkily
and fitfully, all the time) satisfactorily.

Small wonder, if the abstinent (pharisaic) attributes to me the fault of intoxication; the flawed
and the faulty (i.e. the vicious and the vile) ever taunt, jeer and sneer the virtuous. (O beloved
master!)

Whether I go to the kiblah or temple (idol house), you (alone) are the object of (my) prostration,
and the end of my prayer; all those' who have insight and perception keep their faces turned
towards you alone.

What do these (despicable) fellows with dianoetic intellect and discursive reasoning know of the
zap and pep of the liquor of love? Those that are ignorant, know nothing about our (inner,
spiritual) state.

From this fountain of love (i.e. the living master) alone, Hafiz only seeks the object of his desire
(i.e. union with the master); what is due to others he cannot eat or drink (i.e. he is hardly
concerned with what others get or don't get from the perfect living master).

LYRIC 13 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Last night, from the minstrel (the Saut-e-Sarmadi, the secret of which was revealed to me by
the disciple-in-chief of my master), may his heart be ever happy, I heard a soul-burning
lamentation of the reed (flute or bansuri of Hootal Hoot).

The burning sensation so overwhelmed my soul that I saw nothing without sensation of ecstasy
(raqqat).

My cupbearer (i.e. my living master) was such a lovely comrade (of mine), that by his locks (of
black hair) and (luminous) visage, he ever showed up to me the sun (the Supreme Lord) and the
dark night (the contrasting nescience produced by my lust and delusion) at the same time.

When he noticed my longing (shauq, love for him), he at once added to the (spiritual) liquor in
my cup (my heart and soul); then I told my cup-bearer (my master) with hallowed feet:

"You have rid me of the filth of this (corporeal) existence, when you, one after the other, raised
the quantity of (spiritual) liquor in my cup (heart).

May the almighty Lord save you from the evil of (time's) tribulation! May the Lord give you the
recompense of your goodly deeds in both the worlds (this phenomenal world and the world
beyond).

When Hafiz becomes besides himself (i.e. becomes spiritually ecstatic), when does he count the
kingdom of Kai Khusru (son of Siavash) and Kai Kaus (son of Kaikubad) as more than a barley
grain?

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LYRIC 14 (9 VERSES)

1-5. O cupbearer (living master)! Come! The glass of my cup (i.e. the mirror of my heart) is
sparkling (clean), so that you may witness the pristine glory (literally, cleanliness) of your ruby-
like wine (the splendour of Musallasi, the realm of Lahoot, of red hue).

O seeker! End out the inner secrets '(mysteries) that lie behind the (corporeal) curtain from those
ecstatic, inebriated ones, for even the highly reckoned Sufis have no place in this mysterious
realm.

(O Sufi!) The unqa (a fabulous, imaginary bird which 'symbolizes the living master whose spirit
ever abides in God) never becomes the prey of any (miscreant, charlatan); lift (fold up) your trap,
for here (your) trap would catch nothing save the wind (i.e. you will get nothing significant by
your wiles, guiles and pretensions).

The moment my heart entrusted my rein (my free will and discretion) into' the hands of my love
for you (i.e. for the living master), I at once cut off all temptation for rest and tranquility.

At your doorstep, our entire obligation is to render service unto you; in return, O Khwaja (living
master), cast a compassionate eye on this bondsman of yours !

6-9. (O seeker!) Strive for the (spiritual) pleasure in the immediate (now that we have the living
master, the embodiment of spiritual rapture), for when the drinking water (the living master) was
no more, Adam had to give up the paradise (i.e. for the sake of the pleasure he thought would
accrue from eating the forbidden fruit, he had to be expelled from paradise).

In the current assembly (of the living master), quaff a cup or two and walk away (fully satisfied),
without desiring for a perennial union (for one or two cups that you quaff would anyway lead to
your perennial union with the master and God whose plenipotentiary he is on the earth).

O my heart! Youth has bidden adieu and from your lifespan you have not plucked a single rose
(i.e. you have not had even once a vision of the inner form of the master and the Lord); in old
age what temptation you can have for name and fame?

O Hafiz! You are dead-set (mureed, dead to the world and alive to the living master) on the cup
of Jamshed (the living master); O zephyr, be gone and on behalf of this bondsman, convey the
pledge of bondage to the Sheikh (the gnostic connoisseur) of the cup (my cupbearer. my living
master)!

LYRIC 15 (8 VERSES)

1-4. Whither the competence of doing the good deed, and whither I, the flawed (the inebriated)
one? O reader! See the (vast) difference of distance between the two ends;

What relation has spiritual ability with abstinence (self-restraint)? Whither the hearing of the
sermon (on the need to inculcate virtues), and whither the melody of rebeck (Saut-e-Sarmadi)?

My heart has become weary (sick) of the prayer-hall and the khirqa (mantle) of cunningness;
where is the pure vintage wine (of gnostics? where is the temple of the magians (the gnostics)?

11
By virtue of his (the living master's) pleasant remembrance, the memory of the days of union
with him has faded; I don't know where has that charisma (karishma) and that annoyance (caused
by the long wait for union with the living master) gone.

5-8. What gain will the heart of the enemies (the contumacious opponents) derive from the
visage of the Friend (my beloved master)? Whither the extinguished candle (the enemies) and
whither the flame of the (splendid) sun (my master)?

Behold the apple of the dimple in the chin (of my beloved master) and see that there is a pit
(chasm or well to which the dimple in the chin is compared) on the path. O my heart! Why are
you proceeding so speedily (gnosis is a slow, gradual process which haste and hurry disrupt)?

(O my beloved master!) When the dust of your doorstep is the collyrium for my sight, do kindly
tell me where shall I go from your auspices (your majestic court or presence)?

O beloved! Don't expect any tranquility or sleep from Hafiz; in the life of love, where is
tranquility? Where is steadfast perseverance (patience) and where is sleep?

LYRIC 16 (9 VERSES)

1-5. O zephyr! Softly speak to that sweet, saucy deer (i.e. my beloved master) and tell him: "You
yourself have entrusted our head (consciousness) to mountain and desert (your love has
distracted us completely).

In thankful consideration for the fact that, you yourself are the king of the land of beauty, do
remember the wanderers in deserts and desolation.

Why does that seller of candy (gnosis), may he live long, not show his favour to the parrot, the
eater of the candy (i.e. the earnest seeker of gnosis)?

O rose (my rosy, lovely master)! It appears that the pride of beauty has not permitted you (to be
kind and feel concerned for your lover) so that you do not make (anxious) enquiries about your
fascinated bulbulandaleeb-i-shaidaa).

(O charlatan!) Those with insight and perception can be preyed only by the beauty of grace; they
don't catch the (spiritually) intelligent fowl (the perceptive seeker) by means of temptation of bait
and the snare (as you seek to do).

6-9. (O comrade!) When you sit by the side of my beloved and quaff the (gnostic) wine, do
remember your wandering, erratic friends (like me).

I don't quite understand as to why these (beloveds) with straight' stature, black eyes and with
silvery moon- like faces do not wear the colours of friendship (i.e. are not strongly attached to
their lovers). (O my beloved master!)

In your (ravishing) beauty, no fault could be traced save that on your (gloriously) beautiful face,
there is not so much as even a mole (natural mark) of favour and faith (mehr-o-wafa).

12
Small wonder, if the verses of Hafiz were to be sung by Venus, it would make the Messiah
ecstatic. (Venus is the Roman goddess of beauty and sensual love, identified with the Aphrodite
of the Greeks. By Mercury, she is the mother of Cupid. She is the second planet from the Sun
and in astrology signifies joy, laughter, dance, love, women, entertainment and perfumes.
According to Islamic theory, Jesus, the Messiah, abides in the Fourth Heaven).

L YR TC 17 (7 VERSES)

1-7. The vintner (the master) opened the door to the tavern (congregation) at the dawn; the
gurgling sound (qulqul) of the goblet (ewer, surahi) instils life (spiritual vigour) in the inebriated
(the ecstatic gnostics).

At long last, in this assembly (of my beloved master) the cup has turned around me. As it is, O
cupbearer, rise and fill in this last cup to the brim (i.e. reveal to me all the gnostic mysteries, now
that I have caught your eye).

O Wiseacre! When in this jumpy realm (jahan) 1 have become crazy (majnoon) in my love for
my Laila (my beloved master), don't admonish a crazy like me (for it would leave me cold).

(O striver!) Burnish your rusted mirror (of the heart, rusted by lust, anger, greed, delusion, ego,
envy and sloth) by the abstergent (lustre or saiqal) of self-restraint and fear of God (taqwa), and
then look clearly into the mirror (of your heart) for your sweetheart (your beloved master's
spiritual form).

By virtue of love-knot (aashiqee), circumambulate around the flame of the spirit o1J.he-/beloved
(master); in the art of burning, learn the culture of love-knot from the moths [cf. deepak ki
chamak mein aag bhi hai, duniya ne kaha parwanon se; parwaney magar yeh kehney lagey,
diwaney tau jal kar dekhen-gey: "The world told the moths that in the luminescence of the lamp,
there is fire too (and so beware), but the moths hit back that the crazy would see what burning is
like].’’

O my soul! The pre-eternal hunter (my beloved master, the plenipotentiary of the pre-eternal)
does not come under any censure (for making a prey of us); for the sake of the grain (of gnosis).
the. fowl wandering about in the air has got into (the trap of the beloved master).

Hafiz has already forsaken (tauba karda) the fraudulent abstinence (of a pharisaic) ; as it is, go
and open the door of the tavern unto him in the last hours of the night (i.e. a few years before
death overtakes him).

LYRIC 18 (5 VERSES)

1-5. It would be a great favour, O beloved, if you don't conceal your face from the beggars
(lovers), so that our eyes may behold your (refulgent) countenance to their satisfaction.

Like Harut we are ever afflicted with the ordeal of love. Would that our eye had not beheld your
face (and escape this ordeal).

If Marut had not spoken even a bit of the beauty of that woman, why would Harut have been a
captive of the dimple in her chin?

13
The fragrance of the rose spread as much as to announce the presence of your (rosy) visage in the
garden (congregation); the bulbuls (your ardent lovers) became ecstatic as if, like us, they have
beheld your visage.

O beloved (master)! I am undergoing torture and cruelty in separation from you; show the path
so that Our Hafiz may behold your (lustrous) face.

LYRIC 19 (12 VERSES)

1-6. We are going in our wanderlust the secret of which either you know or our grief-stricken
heart; how far can our misfortune (of separation from you) fetch for us food and drink?

I wish that our heart feeding on grief (caused by our separation, from you) may never be gay and
joyous without the pangs (of your separation); O my heart, sustain yourself on grief, for naught
save, this grief is a fit food for us!

(O master!) I have been rejoicing since the day when you (endearingly) asked my rival: "Who is
this beggar who never leaves our portal?"

On that messenger who delivers your salaam to me, I will scatter the pearl (tears) from my
eyelids'; in the wise of your locks (of hair that shower pearls of love on all those who see them
dishevelled).

(O my beloved 1) I offer solicitations (for your love and favour to me); you also raise your hands
in solicitation, entreating (God) that faithfulness "be your comrade and that God be my
succourer."

If this entire universe were to sigh (on my love for you and your indifference towards me), Jet
them, (for that is inconsequential, neither here nor there); our Maker, and Judge would exact
retribution from all those who commit inequity.

7-12. By your (own) head! If this entire world were to raise Cain on my (crazy) head, even then
they would not be able to drive ardent desire, for you from my head.

(O my beloved master!). You know it (very well) that even this sphere (firmament) is making me
wander like a vagabond (in my craze for you); it feels envious at my soul-sustaining company
with you.

My dry mouth, parched lips and moist eyes are intimations of the inner burning (of my desolate
heart), for I am in pain (caused by my separation from you).

Since I have committed myself to write of the quality of your beauteous face, (every) leaf of the
rose has become shame-soaked at seeing (every) leaf of this Diwan.

Very soon it will be that my beloved (master) would return unto me with good cheer and peace.
What a wonderfully (cheery) day it would be when he gracefully comes into my embrace.

(O seeker!) Whosoever asks you, "For God's sake, tell me where has (that crazy) Hafiz gone?’’,
tell him, "Having become weary sick, he has set off (embarked) on a Journey, and has left us."

14
LYRIC 2O (7 VERSES)

1-7 At the advent of the spring (nau bahar) and the rose (the beloved master), to be broken off
from, the garden (congregation of disciples), O Lord, may such a thing never happen and may
none be severed from his beloved ones.

In autumn, having become severed from the union with the rose (the beloved master), the bulbul
(the earnest disciple) came to the garden early in the morning clamouring and lamenting.

This phenomenal world is an ancient garden and men and women (of each succeeding
generations) are likely new sprouted roses i.e. like Tennyson’s brook, the world says: Men may
come, men may go, but I go on forever. The gardener (the messenger of death) detaches every
rose (i.e. every man) from the bough of the span (allotted to him).

It is regrettable that my life in this fleeting world has passed uselessly (in vain); is regrettable
again that this body which I could have used in the cause of gnosis would soon become cut out
off from my soul.

A great many silvery white beautiful bodies are sleeping in the dust (of the graveyard)- the kings
as well as the newly wedded brides – very far away from this jumpy world (Jahaan).

O worldling! Be sensible (keep your wits intact), and do not trample the heads of these bodies
under your feet- those that are severed from their home and hearth lying asleep in the dust.

O Hafiz! It’s time that you abandon lust and greed (temptation) and in order to get ready for
union (with the beloved), cut yourself off from this (lust) and that (greed).

SECTION BEY

LYRIC 21 (9 VERSES)

1-9. Shamed by the glory of his (my master’s) visage, the sun (any other sage etc.) has gone in
hiding (has become overshadowed) for when the sun (the perfect master) rises, the shade
vanishes.

When my moon (i.e. my beloved master), without much ado, lifts his veil (i.e. when my master
openly delivers his gnostic discourses), by his beauty (depth and splendour of his discourses) he
ties up the hand of the sun and the moon (all other saints and sages).

If in the night I dream him in my embrace, under the impact of this fantasy. none would be able
to spot me (i.e. I would look so majestic that none would be able even to recognise me).

Look at the inequity of the charlatans and their ruling supporters!) The beloveds (the genuine
saints) are in hiding, and the (divinely) inebriated ones are becoming impatient (in the state of
hush, awaiting the manifestation of the Qutbul Waqt); the convents(khanqah) are full (of seekers)
and the dervishes (the gnostics) are in disarray.

Under the Impact of the heat of my tears, I noticed the blood of my heart in the chalice; by my
desire for (gnostic liquor) I have tarnished (ruined) my reputation (literally, thrown my fame to
the wind).

15
At least, for the sake of (gnostic) wine, the Controller of Public Morals (the pharisaics) must be
lashed, without counting the strokes.

If the controller of public Morals were to comprehend the burning sensation of the inebriated
ones (i.e. the gnostics), he would that very moment shower the water of wine on their fire (to
quench it).

One from whose eyes tears flow as rain, he keeps under his skirt the wind (of love) hidden like
the cloud (i.e. he would drive away the cloud of grief of love as the wind scatters the clouds).

O Hafiz! ask the Pharisaic not to deliver sermons and admonitions (counselling abstinence and
abandonment of the path of love or bhakti) for it would not be right to forsake the Turks (beloved
saints) of Khotan.

LYRIC 22 (8 VERSES)
1-4. Good God! What a (spiritual) wealth I attained last night , for as a bolt from the blue, my
beloved came down to me.

When I beheld his ravishing countenance, I prostrated before him, by God Almighty, last night I
became one of the righteous!

The sapling of my life has yielded the fruit of union (with my beloved master). Tonight I am
admiring, preening on my good luck.

O Pharisaic! If tonight you make me mount the scaffold like Mansur my blood would sketch, the
print of Anal Haq (I am God) all over the earth.

1-8. I got the recompense (merit or sawaab) of union with my Laila Last night just because of
my roused (kinetic) fate.

I am dead set on removing the lid(cover) from the tray (of divine secrets); If tonight (my
beloved) were to chop off my head (and throw it in. the tray).

O my love (living master)! You are the holder of spiritual rarities, and I am the one with
(spiritual) credentials; tonight give the poor-due from your (gracious, lustrous) beauty, for I have
a right on it (poor as I am, starving for union with you).

I fear that I, Hafiz, may slip into coma tonight under the impact of the clamour (jingle of Saut-i-
Sarmadi) in my head.

LYRIC 23 (1O VERSES)

1-5. (O my beloved master!) The celestial gardens obtain their sheen from the garden of your
union (with your ardent disciples); the heat of hell derives its burning (power) from your
separation (from your ardent disciples).

In the wise of my eye, the fountain of paradise dreams of the phantasy of your intoxicating,
narcissus-like eye.

16
Even the paradise and its Tuba tree (planted by God with His own hand, and He breathed spirit
into it so that it produces ornaments and robes of honour for the blessed ones) have sought refuge
in the beauty of your (rosy) cheeks and your (grandiloquent) stature, so that they could become
the emblems of (Divine) beauty and grandeur, where the blessed ones could rest and repose.

The springtide, in every round, has interpreted and elaborated your eternal beauty (in a new
style); the paradise, on' all its gates, has recited your ravishing comeliness (in various idioms).

The chests turned into kebab (by the fire of separation from you and the ardour of love for you)
and the wounded livers (of your-lovers) owe quite a few obligations to the salt (liveliness) of the
beauty of your lips and mouth (for you are the salt of the earth, the finest amongst all the saints).

6-1O. (O beloved master !) This heart of mine has been burnt out but could not attain to its desire
(for perennial union with you); if it had realized its end, it would not have shed blood, instead of
water.

(O master!) Don't imagine that in your era, it's only (your) lovers who are intoxicated' (by your
Divine wine); the inebriated ascetics are, likewise, in a similar state; only you don't know their
plight.

I am now convinced that in the era of your lips (which rule the roost in gnosis) the traits of the
ruby be- come manifest by the sun (i.e. you) that illuminates the whole world (i.e. you are the
light of the world so that the rubies are rubies because of you).

O my heart, by the blessings of love (from the master) you have attained to the inner mystery;
through the faulty routes (love is derided and censured by the worldly-wise), you have reached
'the right path.

O Hafiz! Don't forsake the path of love or else your life would go waste; endeavour (on the path
of love for the master) so that you may attain to the ultimate object of your dear (rare) life (of
man, the crown of species).

LYRIC 24 (8 VERSES)
1-4. The dawn of good luck is breaking; where is the sun-like cup (my beloved master)? What
better hour of respite can there be (in which to have union with him)? Let me have the Clip of
(gnostic wine). (Hafiz here narrates the principal features of this hour of good luck, and says:

The abode (of my heart) is with. out tension (i.e. it is tranquil); the cupbearer (my master) is my
beloved; the minstrel (the disciple-in-chief) tells jovial anecdotes (of love); the season is inviting;
the (gnostic) cup goes on Circling round and it is the age of youth (of devotion, when the
spiritual striver attains access to Lahoot and Hahoot, Trikuti and Sunn).

The beloved cupbearer is in full bloom (happily showering the gnostic wine on all earnest
seekers); the minstrel is dancing (in joy at the munificence of the master); the coyish manner of
the cupbearer has filched the sleep from the eyes of the (gnostic) wine lovers.

It's a special sort of privacy (for love with the master); .the place 'is quiet and secure, and the lane
is love-lane. O Lord! I don't know if what I am witnessing is a dream (illusion) or wakefulness
(reality).

17
5-8. The masseur of cheeky disposition (Divine impulse) by the phantasy of the flavour of
(gnostic) wine is secretly depositing (instilling) the rose-water in the heart of the rose-petal
(seeker). For the purpose of relaxation (of strung nature) and for embellishing beauty and
ecstasy, the mixture of golden chalice (Lahoot or Musallasi, the region of Three Prominences
with Hoo as its inarticulate sound) and melted ruby (the colour of Lahoot) is the ideal
combination.

The place of tranquility, and the company of beloved cup bearer, and all the lovers being one
with each other (with perfect concentration on the eye of the master), and the inebriating eyes of
the cupbearer-all these have spoiled (intoxicated) the (spiritual) wine worshippers.

Since the moment when that moon (my master)-the buyer of the pearls (i.e. the love cries and
wailings) of Hafiz-has put on these pearls on his cars (i.e. since the time my master has opened
my inner ears), the sound of rebeck (one hears in Hahoot or Sunn) is falling in the ears of Venus
(the goddess of beauty and music, i.e. in the ears of all earnest strivers).

LYRIC 25 (9 VERSES)
1-5.
I said: "O Sultan of the beauteous ones (i.e. my living
(O master, the King among saints)! Take pity on this (spiritual) traveller." He replied: "In trailing
behind his carnal soul, that poor, miserable traveller loses the (right) track."

I requested him: "Come at least for a while." He said': "Excuse me! How can a mollycoddle like
you (pampered by homely indulgent care) stand to this sort of dire ordeal (as one has to endure
on the gnostic path)."

What grief could strike a preening beauty Sleeping in royal bed-chamber, even if a (spiritual)
traveller has made (for himself) a bed of thorns and cutting stones?

O you my beloved, in whose locks (of hair) is entangled the spirit of your lovers! On your
(spiritually) colourful visage, what a wonderful sight is that black mole (to avert the evil rye)?

What a rare sight are the hairs of your beard roundabout your (awesomely glorious) checks,
despite the fact that in a beautiful garden, a black line or stripe is not a rarity?

In the colour of your moonlike face (like white rose or eglantine), the reflection of (red) wine
looks wonderful like a petal of syringa persica (arghawan) lying on eglantine.

I told him: "O you, my beloved, your night-like locks (of hair) are like nightfall for the strangers
(making them distracted); when at the dawn, this stranger (traveller) wails and laments, take care
(and fear God lest He should feel annoyed at your utter indifference towards your lovers)."

Then I added: "O my moon! Don't hide (from me) your rosy cheeks or else you will only shatter
us and make us miserable and alien."

Hafiz says: "The lovers are in a state of all absorbing love (hairat). If a (spiritual) traveller
becomes tenuous (khasta) and miserable, it will not be beyond (that beloved master of mine)."

LYRIC 26 (13 VERSES)

18
The dawn is breaking and the cloud is stretching a veil (i.e. my living master who is like the
morning sun, is deliberately hiding himself behind a cloud-like veil of sauciness). O comrades!
Get me the morning wine (the morning recitation of the Great Name or Isme Azam).

On the red anemone (my heart) the dew (master's grace) is falling; O companions, fetch the
ancient (well-tried mellowed, vintage) wine (i.e. Sultan-al-Azkar)!

In the orchard (congregation of the devouts), celestial zephyr (gust of master's grace) is blowing;
continually quaff the pure, vintage (spiritual) liquor.

The rose (my master) has spread out a golden throne (invitation to enter the region of Lahoot;
obtain from him the fiery, ruby-like (rubicund gnostic) wine.

On the spirits of those whose breasts have been turned into kebab, your lips and teeth have many
obligations of having eaten their salt (liveliness, and so be kindly to them) for it is their love for
you that has turned them into kebab (cf. Verse 5 of LYRIC 23, supra).

O Opener of the gate (to the celestial regions)! You have once again closed the gate of your bar
(your gnostic discourses); O opener of the gate, open the gate, please!

In such an inviting weather (with you as the master and I as the disciple) it would be queerish if
you close the bar so early, so fast.

O (fraudulent and exhibitionist) abstinent! Quaff the (spiritual) wine ecstatically. O

(worldly-)wise folks! Fear God (and don't admonish those who quaff the gnostic wine).

O seeker! If you are a seeker of the Water of Life, hear the sound of rebeck (in the region of
Hahoot) and ask for (gnostic) wine. If you are a seeker of the Water of Life like Alexander, then
attain to the ruby-like lips of the beloved (master).

[It is said that Khidr, the perennial Pir or Zinda Pir, led Alexander to the Water of Life in the
Khasra-i-Daman or Zulmat or Darkness, for which refer to Wilberforce Clarke, Diwan- i-Hafiz,
I, London, p. 149, and pp. 198-99 and 211. Also see Alexander Rogers (Tr.) The Shah-Namah of
Firdausi, Heritage Publishers, New Delhi, Reprint, 1978, pp. 387-88.]

Face to face with the Peri-like body of the beloved (master), in the flowering season, quaff the
undiluted gnostic wine (i.e. practice recitation, contemplation and meditation- Sultan-al-Azkar-
the sitting before the beloved master).

In celebration of sighting the face of the moon-like cupbearer (the master), like Hafiz, gulp the
rack (pure gnostic wine).

O Hafiz! Don't grieve, for the beloved (master) of your good luck will, at long last, lift the veil
from his face.

LYRIC 27 (7 VERSES)
That tawny, sweet beloved (master) contains the sweetness of the entire universe; he has
intoxicating eyes, smiling lips and cheery, pleasing heart.

19
Albeit all the sweet-mouthed (sages and-saints) are kings (in their own ways), but that (master of
mine) is the Solomon (qutb) of the Age, for he it is who has the ring (the key to man's
emancipation from the shackles of mind or manas, and body or maya or cosmic illusion.
Rabbinical fable has it that Solomon wore a ring with a gem that told him all he desired to
know).

His face is beauteous- (charming to the senses); he has perfection of (spiritual) virtue and
righteous, flawless character; ineluctably, for all the righteous of both the worlds, he is the focus
of attention.

The black mole (that repels the evil eye, or Satan) on his wheatish cheek has waylaid (fascinated)
the seekers even as the wheat-grain (the forbidden fruit) had outwitted Adam.

My heart-ravisher has decided to depart (i.e. leave us for the divine abode); for God's sake, O
comrades, tell me what shall I do with my wounded heart, for the (healing) ointment (spiritual
remedy) is with him (alone)?

To whom can this mystery be divulged that that stony- heart (my master) has killed us, although
the healing spell of Messiah of Maryam (Mary) is with him (who can revive the dead and make
them. twice-born, i.e. who can enable his disciples to die to their flesh and become spiritually
resurrected).

Hafiz is among the trusted ones; regard him as weighty (amongst the Elect), for he is the
recipient of the favour of that gracious master.
Lyric 27 (7 Verses)
1-7. That tawny, sweet beloved (master) contains the sweetness of the entire universe; he has
intoxicating eyes, smiling lips andcheery, pleasing heart. Albeit all the sweet-mouthed (sages
andsaints) are kings (in their own ways), but that master of mine) is the Solomon (qutb) of the
Age, for he it is who has the ring (the key to man's emancipation from the shackles of mind or
manas, and body or maya or cosmic illusion. Rabbinical fable has it that Solomon wore a ring
witha gem that told him all he desired to know). His face is beauteous(charming to the senses); he
has perfection of (spiritual) virtue andrighteous, flawless character; ineluctably, for all the
righteous of both the worlds, he is the focus of attention. The black mole (that repels the evil eye,
or Satan) on his wheatish cheek has waylaid (fascinated) the seekers even as the wheat-grain (the
forbidden fruit) had outwitted Adam. My heart-ravisher has decided to depart (i.e. leave us for
the divine abode); for God's sake, O comrades, tell me what shall I do with my wounded heart,
for the (healing) ointment (spiritual remedy) is with him (alone) ? To whom can this mystery be
divulged that that stony-heart (my master) has killed us, although the healing spell of Messiah
ofMaryam (Mary) is with him (who can revive the dead and make them . twice-born, i.e. who
can enable his disciples to die to their flesh and become spiritually resurrected). Hafiz is among
the trusted ones; regard him as weighty (amongst the Elect); for he is the recipient of the favour
of that gracious master.

Lyric 28 (9Verses)
1-5. That rare, valuable, long-awaited night, of which the seekers of privacy are worthy, is this
night; O Lord, such a delightful effect of good luck is from which (zodiacal) star ? (Omy beloved
master!) Locked in every curl of your locks, every heart is absorbed in uttering, "O Lord! O
Lord l", so that the hands of the unworthymay not reach your locks (i.e. your gnostic mystery). I
am thirsty for the water (of life) from the well (dimple) of your chin, for thenecks of the spirit of
a hundred thousand seekers are under the carcan of the flesh of that dimple (of yours). The hotly
speeding sun, having sighted the lustre of the perspiration on his (glorious) cheeks, fell in love
20
with that perspiration and since then, every day, he burns in hot fever (has become frenetic). In
that royal cavalcade in which the saddle is firmly secured on the back of zephyr (allusion to the
throne of Solomon sitting on which he could traverse a journey that would ordinarily take a
month, at dawn, and the same at nightfall), how can we deal with Solomon (our living
master),for our carriage is but an ant (i.e. how can we cope with the supersonic spiritual speed of
our master, when we can only move at snail's pace, spiritually lethargic and inert as we are).

6-9. That royal hussar of mine for whom the moon holds the mirror and of the dust of the calk of
whose stallion is this lofty, splendid sun-from the beak of his perfection, the Water of Life trickles.By
God! What an exalted rank my pen (destiny) has. O (crafty) abstinents! Regard me as helpless; I
cannot forsake the ruby(like lips) of my beloved (master) and the cup (of gnostic wine he makes
me quaff), for that is my religion (mazhab). He that darts arrow (of love) from his eyes looking
lower down, his beatific smile under the lips (i.e. smacking his lips) is the nutriment of the soul
of Hafiz.

Lyric 29 (9 Verses)
1-5. That renowned messenger who has hailed from the landof my beloved (master), he has· brought a
musk-strewing letter (the spiritual message or Divine impulse) which acts like an amulet for me (to
enable me to counter Satan). It gives me the clear clueto luminescence and beauteousness of my
beloved; it is narrating the finest tales pertaining to the highest (spiritual) honour and (gnostic)
exaltation of my :beloved. To him, by way of tip(payment given for services in excess of the
standard charge), I gave away my life, but Ifeel ashamed for such an insignificant and poor
amount of cash (as I had, i.e. my life) which I scattered on my beloved. What discretion (free
will) has the sphere (sky) to go round and the moon to traverse? They are in motion at the
discretion of my beloved (master). Thank God that by the active aid of the Creator's (Divine)
dispensation, the entire (spiritual) business· of my beloved (master) runs in accordance with his
demand.

6-9. Even if the storm of mischief makes both the worlds topsy-turvy, I will remain firm (in my
love) ; the lamp (apple) of myeye (the cynosure of my eyes, i.e. my beloved master) would be
there and there would remain the way on which I will stand waiting for him. O morning zephyr !
Fetch for me that lucky lust which had the privilege to lie on the way on which my beloved
walks--that lucky dust would alone act for me as collyrium which is made from the powder of precious
pearls (kuhl-al-jawahar). I am there, and there is the door-sill (of the beloved's abode where I sit)
and my necessitous head-let us see whom does sweet sleep (phantasy) take into the embrace of
my beloved. If my enemy (Satan) takes aim at me (i.e. makes me the target of his murderously
amorous attack) what do I care ? I thank· God (that my beloved master is there as my sword and
shield and) that I have done nothing which could make me ashamed

Lyric 3O (9 Verses)
1-5. That peri-faced beloved (master) who, last night, slipped 'out of my embrace, l don't quite
know what fault he found in me so that he slipped through the way to Khita (a Chinese city
known for its musk).

Since the time that all-seeing eye (my master) has gone out of my sight, nobody is aware of what
has gone out of my sight.

(In view of the burning heat of my heart, the burning candle paled into insignificance) last night,
the smoke that rose from the smouldering liver of mine and covered my head (made my soul
soar), overtook the smoke rising from the burning candle.

21
Faraway from your face, at every moment, from the sockets (literally, corner) of my eyes, a flood
of tears flowed and an awful blizzard rose (bitterly cold wind and snowfall, symbolic of
depression and frustration).

When the night of separation (from the beloved master) arrived, the ground slipped from
underneath my feet; when from my hand the medicine slipped out, I remained afflicted with pain.

6-9. (Then) my heart spoke up: "Union with him (the perfect master) can be attained through
solicitation", but lo, a whole age has passed and most of my life has been expended on prayer!

When that kiblah (my living master) is no longer there, why should I impose on myself vows of
prohibition? For what shall I endeavour now that cleanliness has deserted the corpse (i.e. my
master being my life, with his departure, I am no more than a carcass).

Yesterday, when the physician examined me, he pronounced in despair: "Ah! Woe betide you,
for your pain has passed beyond the gamut of cure.

(O beloved (master)! Take a step forward in order to make anxious enquiry about the state of
health of Hafiz, before the people inform you that he has departed from this perishable abode
(dar-i-fana).

Lyric 31 (11 VERSES)

1-6. O hallowed (master)! Who is there that would open up (lift) your veil? O celestial bird!
Who is there that would give you grain (of truth) and water (of life, for you are Truth and Water
of Life personate)?

Wounding my heart and making me come a cropper, you have departed from my embrace.
Whose abode is your final destination and what sanctuary is your bed-chamber? By the heart-
burning speculation as to whose lap is your quarter of repose and sleep, my sleep has deserted my
eyes.

You don't enquire after the plight of a dervish (like me), and 1 apprehend that you do not give a
hoot about securing absolution for him and for earning spiritual merit (sawaab).

That euphoriant eye (of my master) has ravished the hearts of his rovers; it is evident that your
wine (intimacy with you and your discourses) is intoxicating.

The arrow that you jauntily shot at my heart, had missed its aim; now, I don't quite know what
your next move would be (i.e. how will you now spiritually reclaim me).

7-11. Every imploration and lamentation I raised, could not reach your hearing. O beloved! It is
evident that your (majestic) premises are very lofty.

O the chandelier (illuminator) of the castle of my heart! You· arc the destination of my love; may
the Lord not allow the Wheel of Time to harden you!

O seeker! In this desolation (phenomenal world), the fountain of water (of life) is far away;
beware, so that the ghouls haunting the desert may not defraud .you by a mirage (i.e. beware so
that the ghouls haunting the devout may not defraud you by luring you to flesh ; beware, so that
the fraudulent charlatan may not delude you by his illusory image and dissimulative postures and
talks)!
22
O heart! Now that your youth has dissipated in indulgence, how and by what norms will you
negotiate the way to old age? (O my beloved master!)

Hafiz is not one of those bondsmen who would avert his face from his khwaja (master)! Favour
me and retrace your steps for I am being wasted by your ire (annoyance I caused to you).

Lyric 32 (11 Verses)

1-6. O the hoopoe of zephyr (i.e. earnest spiritual seeker)!I am despatching you to Saba (the
kingdom of Bilqis, for which refer to my translation of Maulana Rum's Masnawi, Volume IV,
M. G. Publishers, Agra, 1995, Sections 23, 25, 27, 3O, 35-36, 38, 4O, 45 and 47, which detail
the story of Bilqis and King Solomon) ; see whence I am sending you to whence. For a bird
(spiritual seeker) like you, to have to live in the dust-bin (khaaqdaan) of Time (dehr) is
damnable (half) ; I am sending you off (from a detestable, fleshly desolation) to the nest of fidelity
(and grace) on the path of love.

The issue is not one of (spatial) farness or nearness (for the lover is ever spiritually with the
beloved irrespective of where the two physically live ; they are ever united unto each other). I am
seeing you in the open and I am sending my prayers for you.

Every morning and evening, I am sending off the cavalcade of my positive prayers for your
spiritual good (dua-i-khair) with the easterly and westerly wind [which will shield your spirit
(east) and your mind and body (west)].

I am despatching you towards the God-reflecting mirror (the perfect master) so that (by
beholding him) you will be able to behold the craft of God on your own face, and so that the
array of your grief (and worldly worries) may not spoil (frustrate and plunder) the land (the
innermost recesses) of your heart (soul); for this reason I am sending my dear soul to you as my
present.

7-11. O my beloved (master)! Send me (the gift of) grief every moment and then preen: "This
gift I am sending you for the sake of God."

O the one evanescent from our sight! You are seated with my heart (and soul, i.e. you are my
comrade, sharing the same camara or room)! I proffer my prayer and I am sending you hosanna,
so that the minstrels (fellow-seekers) may acquaint you with my craze (ishq) for you;

I am sending you my qawwali [affirmation (qaul) of love] and my lyric (ghazal or conversation
with the beloved) alongwith the (appropriate) instrument (saaz) and modulation (nawa).

O (my) cupbearer (my beloved master)! Come on, for the mysterious voice has given me the
glad tidings: "Persevere steadfastly in pain, for I am sending you the (appropriate) medicine (i.e.
perfect living master who would redeem you from all afflictions).

O Hafiz! The musical notes of my assembly (majlis) are the goodly recitation (dhikr) of Great
Name revealed to you (by your living master). Hurry up, for I am sending you the stallion (the
perfect saint) and the (appropriate) costume (the spiritual formula or the GreatName)."

Lyric 33 (11 Verses)

1-6. O the one evanescent from my sight (i.e. my living master, who has departed)! I entrust you
(your memory) to the care of the Lord; you have incinerated my life-breath but I remember you
23
by heart as my beloved.

Never believe (even for a moment that I would ever keep my hands off the skirt of your memory;
not until I pull the skirt of shroud (kafan) on me under the dust (in the grave).

If I am dragged (by the devil) towards Harut (the sorcerer) hung upside down in the well of
Babylonia, I would indulge in a hundred sorts of (spiritual) sorcery in order that I may be able to
drag you there (to rescue me from the satanic forces).

Show me the arch of your eyebrows (i.e. pull me up to the centre between two eyes or bhrakuti
viz. Trikuti, the region of Musallasi or Lahooty, so that at dawn I may raise my hands in prayer
and put them around your (beauteous) neck.

O (hard-hearted) unfaithful (i.e. indifferent and uncaring) physician! It is my keen desire that I
give up the ghost in front of you. As it is, once again make anxious enquiries about your patient,
for I am lying in wait for you.

In order to nourish and sustain the seed of my love which I have sown in your heart, I have
carved out a hundred water-channels (of tears flowing incessantly) from my eyes into my bosom
(my heart which is, of course, connected with your heart so that the streams of my tears flow
straight into your own heart).

7-11. (O my beloved master!) You have shed my blood so that you have rid me of the pangs of
separation from you. I am grateful to the sabre of your jauntiness of ogle (ghamza).

I weep and the object of my tear-raining eyes is that seed of my love which I have sown in your
heart.

If my eyes and heart were to aim at someone else (i.e. if my gaze and desire become fastened on
someone other than you), I would put that heart to fire, and for your sake, I would gouge that eye
from its socket.

By your grace, allow me access unto you, O my beloved master, so that along with the burning
of my heart, I may shower, every moment, the pearls (of my tears) from my eyes on your (holy)
feet.

(The beloved master now tells Hafiz:) "O Hafiz! The (gnostic) wine, the beloved (master) and
(spiritual) ecstasy are not your wont (wazey), but even then you indulge in them and I forgive
you". In others words, "O Hafiz! Although you are spiritually incompetent to have access to my
gnostic mysteries, but seeing your thirst, I permit your activities, and, I pardon and admire all your
spiritual endeavours, imperfect as they are.") ''If there is a devout who has perfect spiritual
credentials, he can be gifted with the capacity to recognize (the master). None has that degree of
devotion that may oblige us to introduce ourselves to him. What you are doing now is mere
imitation. But there is nothing to worry about. This time, we desire it this way; and it is in this
way that we will redeem all (the aspirants)."

Lyric 34 (6 Verses)
1-6. (O lovely master!) If you graciously call me, that would be an additional favour and if you
angrily drive me out, even then, from my inner self I would clearly acquiesce to it (for I know
that I am unworthy of you, and your turning me out would only go a long way to purge me of
miscreance).
24
To detail your quality (i.e. your divine splendour, majesty and beauty, your perfection or numen,
luminescence or mysterium tremendum, and comeliness or mysterium fascinans is outside the
range of possibility (space and time), for your essence is beyond the ken of essences.

O stony-hearted beloved! Like the cypress, you raise your head on us (i.e. you snap your head
off before us, you speak sharply and angrilyat our misdeeds); from the sides, so many eyes look
down upon our faces, even though we are head over heels in love with you!

O seeker! The countenance of our beloved (master) can be beheld only by the eye of craziness
(ishq); this because, the radiance of the visages of the beauteous runs from Qaf to Qaf (i.e. from
one end of the universe to the other end).

Recall some verse from the holy Koran having a bearing on the countenance of the beloved
(allusion to II, 1O7: "It is God unto whom belongeth the sovereignty of the heavens and earth,
and ye have not, beside God, any friend or helper"), for that verse contains the key to (gnostic)
openings leading to the various lofty spiritual regions.

The enemy who is stingy in articulating the verses of Hafiz (fearing the onset of good luck for
those who would hear them) reminds one of huma and the vulture (huma being an emblem of
luck, and vulture, a token of misfortune and rapacity. Huma is a fabulous oriental bird which
never alights but is always on the wing. It is said that every head which it overshadows will wear
a crown. But those who are hostile to gnosis and to Hafiz, are like the vulture which is a bird of
ill-omen like owl, crow and raven, signifying death, destruction and delusion).

Lyric 35 (8 Verses)
1-4. (Ognostic striver!) Although the (gnostic) wine is refreshing, and wind (Divine inspiration)
has the fragrance of rose, andyou are listening to the sound of violin (Chang, Saut-i-Sarmadi of
Hahoot), in accompaniment of that sound, do not drink (i.e. don't become ecstatic), for the
Controller of Public Morals is very strict (i.e. the pharisaics would become annoyed and would
take you to task).

If the ewer (surahi or goblet) and your fellow-gnostic, hold your hand, even then, use your wits
in (gnostic) endeavour, for the current time is exceedingly troublesome (for the gnostics).

Conceal the chalice (your ecstasy) in the sleeve of your khirqa (the mantle used by the Sufis),
(i.e. don't wear your heart on your sleeve), for this era is as bloody (cruel or murderous) as the
eye of the ewer (having red wine).

By your tears (that you constantly shed in remembrance of the beloved master), wash off the
stains of the (ruddy) wine from your khirqa (so that no pharisaic may discover that you are a
gnostic), for it is the season of (hypocritical) abstinence and (exhibitionist) self-denial (paraded
by the charlatans).

5-8. Don't be a seeker of pleasing comfort from this Wheel of Time that ensures reverse
operations (i.e. that makes truth appear as falsehood and vice versa), for even the apparent
cleanliness of this bent pitcher (dome-shaped firmament) has dregs (dirt and filth) mixed up in it.

This lofty sky (the so-called rulers of this world) is such a blood-scattering sieve that each and
every drop trickling from it is like the severed head of a Kasra (Naoshirvan King) and the crown
of Parvez (Piruz who became a king after lot of bloodshed and was eventually killed brutally by
25
Purandukht. See the Shah-Namah, op. cit., pp. 54O-42).

Whatever reaches from the light of the munificent Lord is the portion of the heart of the person
who rises early in the morning (and engages himself in recitation of the Great Name).

OHafiz! By your verses you have cast a spell on Iraq and Persia; it's now time that you floored
Baghdad and turn to captivate Tabrez.

Lyric 36 (1O Verses)

1-5. Although it is (gross) impertinence to bring forward any talent before the beloved (master),
my tongue is quiet, but the mouth is full of Arabic (Koranic verses).

Those like the peri (the worthy, fair seekers) have hidden their faces, and the div (the satanic, the
ghouls) are preening (priding and congratulating themselves on their charismatic appeal to the
lustful); flabbergasted, my wits have burnt out(wornout and have become inoperative),
wondering what this wonderland is?

Don't ask me why has the sphere (charkh, sky or the Wheel of Time) become the sustainer of the
despicable, and why is the blessing of success showered on rotters, without rhyme or reason?

From this rose-garden (assembly of gnostic seekers), nobody has plucked a flower which was not
tormented by the thorn (i.e. there has been no saint whom the wicked and the contemptible
charlatans have not tortured); for instance; the light of Mustafa (Prophet Mohammed) was ever
vexed and harassed by the pernicious spark of Abu Lahab (his own uncle).

Witness the queerish sight-- Hasan (a sage) from Basra, Bilal (a great gnostic and a slave) from
Ethiopia and Suhail from Greece, and Abu Jehl from the (holy)dust of Mecca!

6-1O. The beauty of the daughter of grape (gnostic wine) is the light of our eyes, although it is
hidden by mysterious curtains on our eyes.

Now, seek the medicine for your pain (pangs of separation from the beloved master) from that
healer that is hidden in the china ewer and luminous glass (the radiant, beautiful body of the
living master).

I am not going to buy the niche of the convent (of pharisaics) and the food-distribution centre
even for half-a-barley (i.e. will give them tuppence), for my mansion is the tavern (congregation
of my beloved master where he serves me gnostic wine ceaselessly), and my lofty castle is his
ewer (his gnostic soul).

Okhwaja (theoretical scholar, wiseacre)! I possessed a thousand(dianoetic) intellects and

mannerisms, but now that I am (spiritually) inebriated and ruined (from the worldly point of
view), I haveacquired a sound, marked by impudence (i.e. I have become bold and irreverent like
Mansur who pronounced Anal Haq).

Ocomrade!Fetch the (gnostic) wine for, like Hafiz, I ever seek sanctuary in weeping, early in
the morning (in the fond remembrance of my beloved master) and my dire necessity (of love-
making with, and meditation on my master)
at midnight.

Lyric 37 (11 Verses)

26
1-6. Omorning zephyr! Where is the resting chamber of my beloved (master)? Where is the
destination of that cheeky, saucy lover-killer moon (my beloved master)?

It is dark night and the (tortuous) way to the valley of tranquillity lies ahead! Where is the fire
(Light that had shone on Moses) of Mount Sinai, and whither ishis (my master's) promise of
showing himself up to me?

Whosoever has come into this (fleshly) world, has the imprint of faultiness; (and, therefore,)
don't go about inquiring in the tavern (of the beloved master) as to where the man of intelligence
and perception is?

He alone is the man of perception who can pick up a clue (and learn from it gradually as one
goes along); there are a great many recondite points but where is the confidant to share those
abstruse mysteries?

O master! Every fibre of my being has thousands of business with you (to transact and complete,
so that I am totally tied up with you). Then, where do I (individually) stand (separated from
you) and whither is the frivolous counsellor (uselessly proffering his worldly. wise counsel)?

The fragile lover, made brittle by the pain and grief of separation (from you) has burnt out, and
yet you yourself don't bother to enquire as to where that grief-stricken lover (of yours)is?

7-l 1. The (gnostic) wine, the minstrel [i.e. the ardent singer and the rose (the disciple-in-chief of
the master)], they are all there, hut without the beloved (master), the pleasure is missing!

Where is the beloved (master)? My wits have gone crazy. Where is the dark lock (of his hair)?
My heart has gone out of me and taken to a secluded corner. Where is the eyebrow of my heart-
ravisher (that could restore or bring back my heart to me)?

My heart is weary and sick of the prayer-hall and the company of the (pharisaical sheikh).Where
is the scion of the fire-worshipper (the gnostic master), my Comrade, and where is the wine-
fermenting centre (khana-i-khammaar, i.e. the gnostic congregation)?

Ask his locks, folded within folds, once again, as to where my grief-stricken heart, which he has
captured, is ?

O Hafiz! In the orchard of this fleeting world, don't grieve about the autumn wind. Ponder over
it deeply; where is the rose without the thorns (i.e. reflect deeply and you will see that there can
be no gnostic who escapes torture by the ruffians and the miscreants, the charlatans and the
pharisaics)?

Lyric 38 (5 Verses)
1-5. (O earnest seekers') Today, there is only one king in the constellation (anjuman or
congregation of gnostic stars," the galaxy of saints 'and sages) of all heart-ravishing saints ; if
there are a thousand heart-ravishers (saints), that heart-ravisher (i.e. that beloved master of mine)
is unique (peerless). It is only· for the sake of that one (i.e. in pursuit of him) that I have thrown my
heart andfaith(dil-o-deen) to the wind (i.e. overboard) ; don't find fault with me for that one (beloved
master) is the substance (essence) of both the worlds (this phenomenal world and the world
beyond). Tell those who fire obsessed with the world of sermons and counsels "Expend and
useyour (spiritual) capital (on that beloved master), for in relation to him, there is no difference
between profit and loss (i.e. what appears to you as a loss is your gain). The whole Creation has
27
opened its tongue to articulate their love for him, but I am only his bondsman whose heart and
tongue are one with each other (i.e. even my silence is eloquent). Hafiz has laid his head (ego) on
the door-sill of the beloved (master) ; all the (spiritual) wealth lies in that head (which is purged
of all ego, all 1-ness) which, having joined up with his doorsill has become one with it [i.e.
which has become self-effaced, orfana, and subsists in him (baqa)].

Lyric 39 (9 Verses)
1-6. It's God's great favour that the entrance to the tavern (the nukta-i-sveda which is the portal to
the Lord's abode) is agape in such a wise that my necessitous (humble) face lies on his (i.e. my
master's) door.

Out of inebriation, all the pitchers (earnest seekers) are on the boil and are seething (josh-o-
kharosh); the wine (spirit of love) which they contain is love of truth (haqiqat ), not love of form
(majaaz).

From his (the beloved master's side) it is all (divine) ecstasy, (divine) potest as (gharoor), and
exaltation and highness (takabbur); from our (i.e. seekers') side, it is all helplessness, humility
and utter dependence (necessitousness or nyaz).

The resolution (shareh) of the folds within the folds of the locks (of hair of the sweetheart, the
master) cannot be cut short, for it is a long tale (involving as it does the whole gamut of Divine
love).

It is like the heavy load on the heart of Majnoon and the (tortuous) folds of the lock of Laila, or it
is like the (glorious) cheeks of-Mahmood (the master of Ayaz) and the sole ofAyaz (i.e. in
relation to my beloved master, who - is like Laila, I am Majnoon, and if my master is like
Mahmood, I am like the sole of Ayaz).

Since the moment my eyes opened to your beauteous countenance, O beloved master, in the wise
of the falcon, I have sewed up my eyes to the whole world (i.e. like a gerfalcon I ceaselessly sit
on the wrist of my master, beholding his glorious visage and ready to act at his beck and call).

7-9. The mystery which I have hidden from the entire Creation and refused to divulge it, 1 will
speak of it to my (beloved) master, for he alone is the confidant of my secret.

(O lovely master!) He who enters the Kaaba of your street, because of the kiblah (niche) of your
eyebrow, he is freely and wholly at service-prayer (namaz). [Kiblah denotes the direction of
Mecca. to which the devout Muslims turn in prayer, indicated in mosques by a niche (mihrab,
which is like eyebrow) in the wall. And Kaaba is a cube-shaped building in Mecca, the most
sacred Muslim pilgrim shrine, into which is placed the black stone (sang-e-aswad); believed to
have been given by Gabriel to Abraham. The Muslims turn in its direction when praying. Kaaba
means "cube").

O fellows of his assembly! You may find out from the candle itself, which is burning and
melting (soz-o-gadaaz), about the intensity of the burning of the heart of Hafiz.

Lyric 4O (11 Verses)

1-6. (O master!) Come on, for the castle of my (ardent) hopes has extremely frail foundations
(i.e. while my spiritual hopes are very high, my spiritual effort is very slack)! Fetch the (gnostic)
liquor, for the base of my life rests on wind (i.e. the thread of my life is very tenuous and I may
not live long). I am a thrall of the attention of that one who, under this azure sphere (i.e. in the
28
universe) is free from every such thing or person who puts on the colours of attachment .with any
one person or thing, for such a person deserts his own colours and always puts on a false colour
on every spiritual matter). O gnostic striver! I give you a piece of advice; bear it in mind and act
on it. This, because I .remember to have got it from the master of tariqa (suluk or gnostic path):
"Don't look for firmness of pledge from this (phenomenal) world, whose foundations are fragile
(based on lust, anger, greed and gluttony, attachment or delusion, ego and hauteur, envy and
jealousy, sloth and lethargy), for the simple reason that this anile hag is the bride of a thousand
husbands." What shall I tell you- only last night when at the gnostic bar (i.e. in the presence of
my gnostic beloved cupbearer) I was intoxicated and in bad shape (i.e. besides myself), what
glad tidings the mysterious angel gave me '? He said: "O you with lofty vision, O falcon who sits
by the tote-tree of the utmost boundary (Sidrah- the Koran LIII-14)! Your nest (abode) cannot be
in this corner of the Mehnat Abaad (the city of toil and trouble, this phenomenal, fleeting world).

7-11. From the parapet walls and· turrets of the empyrean (Alam-i-Jabroot) they are calling you;
I don't know wherefore you have got stuck in this snare. Don't worry about this world (i.e. have
no care or concern with what happens in this perishable world); don't forget my counsel, for I
remember a fine, rare joke from a (spiritual) wayfarer: "acquiesce in what you are given, and.
resolve the knot of tension on your forehead, for neither on me nor on you, the door of freewill is
agape." In the smile (blossoming) of the rose (my beloved master) there is no mark of kindness
and fidelity; O miserable bulbul (lover o·~ the master), wail and lament, for this is just the right
place from which one can raise cri de coeur (faryaad)! O composer of weak, poor verses, why
do you envy Hafiz? The poetic delicacy and universal acceptability of a poet are the gifts of God
(and so in envying and feeling bitter about Hafiz, you will only be envying and cursing God,
which is simply not done).

Lyric 41 (9 Verses)
1-5. O pharisaical sermonizer ! Be gone and engage in your business. Why are you wailing?
While my heart has gone out of my hand, what have you lost?

So long as his (my master's) lips do not reach me, like the reed (flute of Hootal Hoot) back to my
destination (Hoot), the counsel of the whole world sounds hollow like wind to my ears.

His (my beloved's) thin back, which God has created out of non-existence (i.e. which is as thin as
if non-existent, a sign of beauty; so to say, my master has the back of divine oak, and he has God
Himself at his back) is such a riddle as no creature has ever resolved.

(O beloved master!) The beggar of your street (i.e. your ardent lover) is indifferent (mustaghni)
to, and independent of, all the eight heavens (that of pure silver, that of pure gold, that of pearl,
that of white gold, that of elemental fire, that of ruby and garnet, that of divine light, and that of
the fixed stars); the prisoner of your prison is free from· both the worlds (i.e. he has attained to
the abode of the Supreme Lord).

Although the ecstasy of my passion (ishq) has disconcerted me (kharaab kard), however, the
base of my being is intact (aabaad) by dint of that disconcertedness.

6-9. O my heart! Don't lament over the cruelty of the beloved (master), for that beloved has
allotted that very portion (cruelty) to you and that is his justice.

Don't fall to the wiles of that anile hag-like world's blandishments and deceptive beauty, for
whosoever became mixed up with her, he found himself unhappy (and damned).

29
O pharisaical admonisher! Don't censure, the bibber of lees (dregs i.e. don't malign us for our
plight), for that is our portion allotted to us by the Provider's apportionment.

O Hafiz! Be gone and don’t recite such a tale and cast such a spell, for we remember a good deal
of such fables and fascinations.

30
Lyric 42 (12 Verses)
1-6. (In as much my beloved master's spiritual stature excel all existent
straight and tall trees or saints and sages), wherefore can my orchard need
a cypress or poplar ; the soil sustaining shade of my balsam poplar
(shamshaad) is second to none.

O preening son (my beloved master)! What sort of religion you have
picked up, so that you deem my blood as more lawful than the milk of
your mother's breast?

O seeker! When from afar you notice the symptom of grief, ask for the
(spiritual) wine; I have done the diagnosis (of your ailment), and the
medicine for it is patent (i.e. the spiritual wine served by my beloved
master).

The grief induced by love is no more than one (familiar) tale, and it is
indeed odd that from whomsoever I hear this tale, it does not sound to be
even slight] different (i.e. it is the same so that nobody has to narrate the
tale of his love encore).

(O seeker!) Why should I withdraw my head from the doorsill of my

beloved master, for it is in this mansion that all the (spiritual) wealth is
stored, and it is on his door that the trance to treasure lies.

In his spiritual ecstasy, he (i.e. my beloved master), yesterday, had

promised to me union with him; let us see what he says today and what is
now in his mind.

7-12. I am not going to denude fuqr (gnosis) (i.e. steadfast endurance and
perseverance) of its sheen and lustre (by asking for spiritual pabulum); tell
the king (my beloved master) that my portion is decreed in my destiny.

Shiraz, and the (wholesome, spiritual) water of Ruknabad, and that lively
zephyr-don't find fault with them, for that (Shiraz) is the beauty spot of all
the seven continents.

There is a world of difference between the water (of life) of Khidr, the bed
of which is darkness (zulmat) and our water (i.e. our beloved master), for
its fountainhead is "God the Great" (i.e. the founta1nhead of my living
master is directly the exalted, Supreme Lord).

In our (gnostic) street (congregation), we buy only (heart-brokenness,

ardent and pain causing love for the master); the market of carnal self’s
salesmanship is on a different plane (i.e. our congregation is purely
gnostic where everyone is a lover par excellence, having abandoned all

31
ego, conceit and carnality; it is the charlatans who run and operate the
bazaar of buying and selling lust, greed, and ego).

O my beloved,O master! Come back (to me) for in separation from you, my eyes are open in
weeping, like the ears of the fasting person (one who abstains from eating as a religious
observanceRozahdaar are hushed, waiting eagerly for the muezzins legend, "God is Great!'' the
call to terminate the fast.

O Hafiz! Of what sort of tree bough is your pen made, that its fruit (product, Lyrics written by it)
are more agreeable than honey and candy?

Lyric 43 (1O Verses)

1-5. I swear by the soul of the khwaja (my master), the prime obligation (alast) and the right,
firm covenant, that my imploration (getting into) your (exalted) mansion is my morning,
affectionate companion. The flood of my tears (shed in separation from you), which carried the
day against Noah's flood, failed to wash out the imprint of your love from the tablet of my heart.
Settle this affair, beloved master,) and buy off this broken heart (of mine), for withstanding it
being broken, it is more than the worth of a thousand dirhams, [ cf. Iqbal : na bacha bacha ke tu
rakh ise, tera ayeena he woh ayeena; ke shakista ho tau azeeztar hai, nigah-e-ayeena saaz mein :
"O lover ! Don't try to save and preserve it, for the mirror (of your heart) is that mirror which, if
it is fragmented, becomes dearer and worthier in the eye (judgment) of that mirror-creator (your
beloved).] (O master!) In your love I have become infatuated with mountains and deserts but till
now you have not loosened the rivets and links of my (corporeal) fetters (that enchain the spirit
(to this filthy body). O hypocritical abstinent ! Don't castigate me for my vileness and filth
(kharabee or drunkenness), for master (murshid) of love (God), on the day of Creation, had
entrusted me (i.e. my spirit) to the care of all that is vile and filthy this body of clay and this
mind with its carnal urges).

6-1O. O my heart ! Don't be tempted by the desire for the unlimited favour and grace of the
beloved (master) ; when you have bragged about your being a lover, smartly and promptly put
your head at stake (in the game of love). An ant-like jinni spoke impertinently to khwaja (i.e.
stately) Asif (the vizier of King Solomon), because he (the khwaja, Asif) had lost the (spiritually
magical) ring of the grand Solomon (aided by which he ruled the jinn and mankind), and did not
care to search for it. (Hence, O seeker, become circumspect and careful and) endeavour for
righteousness and sincerity so that by your mere breath, the (spiritually refulgent) sun (saintly
discourses) may grow [give up pretensions and putting on airs ; i .e. don't become
ultracrepidarian (ignorant yet acting . or speaking as if knowledgeable) like that jinni who, after
stealing Solomon's ring, began to claim Solomonship]; the false dawn (subeh kazib) became
black-faced (disgraced and notorious) on account of its falsity (i.e. the false dawn is followed by
the darkness of the night while the true dawn means the rise of the refulgent sun). If a lover (an
ardent seeker) tried and tested his beloved's (i.e. master's) heart a thousand times, and he found it
hard (stony), if he withdraws from the beloved, it only means that his pledge of love (for the
beloved) was frail and tenuous, (not that the beloved is less beautiful than he expected. If a
beloved is not as faithful as the lover desires him to be, that only shows the weakness of the
lover's love; it does not reflect on the· beauty and grace of the beloved). O Hafiz! Don't be
grieved and don't look for fidelity from the heart-ravishers (beloved saints); if this grass (i.e. you

32
who is like worthless straw) does not grow and flourish in the garden (of the beloved master),
what· can be the flaw and fault in the garden (i.e. ·it is your own deficiency, not that of the
garden)?

Lyric44 (11 Verses)

1-6. O bulbul (lover of the beloved, rose-like master)! Wail and lament (over the beloved's
indifference), if you cherish your camaraderie with me; this, because both of us are ardent lovers
(aashiq-i-zaar), and our calling is weeping and wailing (in remembrance of the beloved).

In the garden, where the fragrance of the locks of hair of the beloved (master) is rampant, where
is the room for the navels of the Tartaric (Mongoloid) musk-deers (that certain genuine musk, i.e.
the ardent disciples who emit the fragrance of musk) to breathe a word?

Fetch the (gnostic) wine so that we may dye the cloth of our jacket (so that we may come off with
flying colours, divested of all that is meretricious); this, because we are inebriated by the cup
(gnosis) of the majestic master (gharoorr)and we are known by the name of (spiritually)
intelligent.

They have not shut the door ofrepentance (so that, for the satisfaction of the pharisaic you may repent
for your drinking and love, even later); now rise (and resume love-making and drinking with the
beloved master), for in the season of rose-blooming (i.e. the season of grace showered by 1 he
beloved master) to repent of love-knot (aashiqi) is silly (be-kaar).

In the morning hours, Iwas dreaming of the wonderment (karishma) of union with him; goodness
knows the (spiritual) ranks of such a dream which is for better than the state of wakefulness
(characterized and dominated by dianoetic intellect).

To bake (i.e. firmly implant) the phantasy of the (beloved's) locks (of hair) is not for the half-
baked (infirm, cowardly and silly seekers), for to slip under the chain (of locks of hair of the
beloved, i.e. the chain of love for him) is a work that calls for profound intelligence.

7-l l The fountain from which ardent passion of love rises is extremely recondite; its name is not
rubicund lip and the beauty and decorative motifs, patterns and the Zanzibari (dark) lines (of the
body of the beloved).

The beauty of a person does not comprise the (beauteous) eye, or locks of hair, or cheeks, or
beauty spots (moles); in the fabric of this heart-ravishing beauty, there are a thousand subtleties.
(The reasoning of Hafiz is that corporeal beauty is a short-lived tyranny, at best a privilege of
nature and at worst, a silent cheat, or a delightful prejudice. The fountain of beauty is the heart
and the soul, and every beautiful thought illustrates the walls of one's chamber. If gnosis
accompanies beauty, it is the soul's paradise; if charlatanry is associated with it, it is the soul's
purgatory. Truebody is a purifier of thoughts, for it is the sensible image of the infinite. Like truth
and justice it lives within us; like virtue and the moral law it is a companion of the soul. Every
trait of beauty may be referred to some virtue-innocence, candour, generosity, love, modesty,
perception, intuition and heroism. To cultivate the sense of the beautiful is one of the most
effectual ways of cultivating an appreciation of the divine goodness. To give pain (as the

33
pretender does) is tyranny; to impart happiness (as the perfect master does) is the true empire of
beauty. All beauty is truth and music, harmony and tranquillity, purity and humility, gracious
temper and calmness of spirit, delicacy and finesse. Beauty without gnosis is like a flower
without perfume. Beauty, properly so-called, does not need the aid of foreign ornament or
adornment. It increases on examination; if false, examination exterminates it.
That iswhy the true masters do not shower criticismor make enquiries or probes or investigations
into any aspect of one's secret. That makes beauty God's own handwriting.] (Obeloved master!
To reach your door-sill is an extremely arduous task; and why notfor to ascend to the zenith of
spiritual headship is exceedinglydifficult.

The travellers on the path of gnosis (tariqat) do not care tobuy, even for half-a-barley, the
brocade mantle of a person devoid of spiritual ethos (hunar)

O Hafiz! Don't vex the heart (of any seeker) by making him cry and stop him from crying;
relieve himof his agony forever (by your gnostic secrets), for by not vexing him you would have
redeemed him forever.

Lyric45 (10 Verses)

1-4. Any seeker who has come to know the way to the streetleading to the (perfect master's)
tavern, knocking at any other door he regardsas ominous, inviting destruction. He who has
realized that the key to attainment of honour and distinction lies in this(perfect master's) cap
(sanctuary), the world has conferred the crown of ecstasy upon him (i.e. the world has jeered and
sneered at him bycalling him as the king of the intoxicated, the wild and the deluded). He who
has found the way to the portal of the (perfect master's) tavern, he has become acquainted with
the mysteries of the (spiritual) convent, by the favour of the chalice of (gnostic) wine (served
bythe beloved master). Whosoever has decoded the secrets of both the worlds by reading the
measurement marks on the cup (of Gnostic) wine served by the master, who serves that wine
according to the seeker's spiritual credentials and receptivity), he is like the one who, by the dust
of the path (of gnosis) has come to know of the mysteries of the cup of Jamshed.

NOTE:In Persian legend, Jamshed was the fourth king of the Peshdadian dynasty, i.e. the
earliest, who is fabled to have reigned for 7OO years and to have had the divs or the jinn as his
slaves. He possessed a seven-ringed golden cup, typical of the seven heavens (see Verse· 4 of
Lyric 41, supra), the seven planets : Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, and
the seven seas : the Arctic and Antarctic, Northand South Pacific, North and South Atlantic, and
the Indian Ocean; and which was full of the elixir of life. It was hidden by - the jinn and was said
to have been discovered while digging the foundations of Persepolis.

5-1O. My heart, for the narcissian eye of my cupbearer (beloved master) has not sought refuge for
its survival for- it has, by now, realized the wont of that black-hearted (stony-hearted, strict
disciplinarian) Turk (master). (Oworldly fellows!) Don't expect from me anything save
obeisance of crazy robots (who have no will of their own and operate as directed) ; for the sheikh
(head) of our faith has regarded intellection (free will) as a sin (transgression of his command). In
the morn-time, by the inequity and cruelty spelt by my ill-starred luck, my eyes wept so much
that even the sun (my master) saw it all, and the moon (his disciple-in-chief) also got to know
about it. How lucky is that eye which regarded the lips of the cup and the countenance of the

34
cupbearer respectively, as the new moon (the bow-like arch connecting the two eyes, in the
middle of which is .situated the nukta-i-sveda, the third til, the portal to the Lord's abode) and the
full moon (one sights in the region of Hahoot). He who regarded the nine tiers of heaven [the nine
heavens, eight of these shown in Verse 4 of Lyric41 supra, the ninth being the crystalline sphere
inventedby Hipparchus (2nd century, B. C.), to account for the precession of the equinoxes. The
tenth was added much later, called as the primum mobile, supposed to revolve round the earth
from east to west in 24 hours, carrying with it all the other spheres. According to Indian
mysticism, the nine spheres alluded to are (1) the region of the Destroyer (Shiva) ; (2) the sphere
of the Creator (Brahma) ; (3) the sphere of the Sustainer (Vishnu)-all of them referred to as
Malkoot ; (4) the region of Jabroot (the ThousandPetalled Lotus) ; (5) the Lahoot or Musallasi or
Trikuti ; (6) the Hahoot (Sunn) ; (7) the Sidd Rah (the Barrier or Zulmatof Mahasunn) ; (8) the
Hootal Hoot (Bhanwar Gupha or the Rotating Cave); and (9) the Hoot (the Sattlok, the region of
Haq)) as the model of bend of the master's sanctuary, must indeed be a very high-ranking, lofty
king. The (gnostic) hadith (legend) of Hafiz and his quaffing cup in hiding, has come to the
notice of even the king, let alone the Controller ofPublic Morals, and the police chief.

Lyric46 (9 Verses)
l-5. A bulbul (lover of the master) was holding the petal of a rose -of beautiful, bright colour,
and with all these resources (of lovemaking) was happily lamenting (remembering his lovely
beloved master).

I asked him: "At the hour of real union (with the beloved master) wherefore is this lamentation
and imploration?" He replied : "The luminous sight (mysterium tremendum) of the beloved
(master) has engrossed me. in this work (humble, happy lamentation)."

If the beloved does not sit by our side, there is no occasion for complaint (for that is the wont of
the beloved) but he was a desire-fulfilling king and he felt embarrassed at the plight of the beggars
(his lovers, and so he did not sit down by our side).

The gnostic who has traversed the (spiritual) path to the stage of self-effacement (Jana), he
became ecstatic, for he became a recipient- of inebriation from the mysterious realm.

Our nccessitousness and humility (niyaz-o-ijz) do not hold good for the beauty of the beloved
(master); as it is, he is indeed lucky, who was graced by the favour of the preening beloved.
6-9. (O lover of the beloved O master!) Rise, so that we may shower our souls on the pen
(directions of grace) of that painter (who engraves our spiritual credentials or samskaras), for all
these engravings he keeps in the circular motion of his divider (compass).

If you are devoted (dedicated) to the path of love, then don't worry about notoriety ; (don't you
know that) Sheikh Sanai (master of Fariduddin Attar, having fallen in love with the daughter of a
Christian), had mortgaged his khirqa (Sufi's mantle) to the tavern (i.e. he became inebriated in
love and from ishq-i-majazi he ascended to the highest level of ishq-i-haqiqi, and went on
quaffing gnostic wine endlessly).

That Sheikh Sanai, a qalandar, even in the paths of wandering or apostasy, held fast to the rosary
(with 99 beads) of the angel, in the girdle of zunnar [which in Sufi parlance means a thread

35
whereby they may attain oneness with the beloved master. Being in love with that Christian
houri (damsel), he abandoned Islam and took to music, wine and swine-herding but he put on the
gnostic cord, strove to be ever as the beloved Christian], and within that 'gnostic cord recited the
Great Name of God. (He had been influenced by the evil prayer of Ghaus-ul-Azam but was
brought back to the Islamic Sufi order by an invisible hand and with his beloved made a pilgri-
mage to Mecca.)

If the eyes of Hafiz were to shed tears down the mansion of his beloved (master), the celestial
palaces would come to sight (of the spectators) below which celestial rivers would flow.

NOTE. The word qalandar, or calendar, literally means "pure gold". The school of Qalandars
was founded in the 13th century by Qalandar Yusuf al Andaluss, a native of Spain, who being
dismissed from another order, founded one of his own with the obligation on its members of
perpetual wandering.

Lyric47 (7 Verses)
1-7. In the coils of your hair(,O beloved master,) my heart has, at its own, become afflicted; slay
it with your amorous ogle (ghamzay, for that will be his deserts.

If my heart's desire can be fulfilled at your hands, do it quickly for to do good is for one's own
sake.

O my beautiful idol (my sweetheart)! I swear by your soul, and affirm that my sole object in
these dark nights (of separation from you) is to burn myself out like a candle.

O bulbul (lover of the beloved master)! When you resolved on love-making (with the beloved
master), I had forewarned you : ''Don't do this, for this self-focussed rose is only for himself (i.e.
he will not give a hoot to your advances)."

The beauty of the rose does not depend (for its life) on the musk of this or that deer ; this,
because the navel of that musk deer (the beloved master) rises from his own private heart. O
seeker! Don't go to the houses of the unkind great ones of this (filthy and foul) world ; this,
because the corner of your tranquillity lies in your own abode (your own soul).

Hafiz has become consumed (in the fire of love) and at the stakes of his love he gambled away
his own life, and yet even now he firmly adheres to his pledge and plighted

Lyric 48 (7 Verses)
1-7. The ocean of love is an ocean which is shoreless (boundless); save for laying down your life
there, there is no other way (to escape).

At whatever moment you engage yourself in love, that would be the happiest moment; there is
no place for procrastination in commencing a good deed. (O worldling!)

On account of the hindrance caused by (dianoetic) intellect, don't frighten me; fetch the (gnostic)

36
wine, for in this land of ours (i.e. in our Republic of Love), the operations of police chief would
be an exercise in futility.

O master! Enquire from your own (amorous) eye as to who is killing me; for, assuredly, this is
not a sin committed by my fate, nor can it be a charge (jurm) against my stars.

The visage of that new moon- hilaal (i.e. my master) can be perceived only by the unflawed,
hallowed eye; every eye cannot be a theatre of the luminescence (mysteriumtremendum) of that
refulgent beam of the (radiant) moon.

Count the path to (gnostic) ecstasy as (a rare) respite (fursat or leisure worth enjoying), for this is
a road sign, which like the way to (spiritual) treasure, is not visible to every person.

(O beloved master!) The weeping of Hafiz has not held good for you in any way whatever; I am
really flabbergasted at your heart which is not less sharp than the cutting stone.

Lyric49 (7 Verses)
1-7. O (pharisaical) abstinent! Be gone and don't invite me to paradise; this because God, in the
pre-eternal, didnot constitute (create) me for paradise (where instead of humans with all their
frailties, the angels, without a trace of human touch, live).
In thegranary of "being", none who has not sown a single seed (i.e. made no arduous effort by
getting close to the living master) on the path to self-effacement (Fana) and on the way to Truth
(Haq orSattPurush) would be able to pick up a single barley grain.

(O pharisaical prude!) On the one side, you are there with your rosary, the prayer-mat, your
(specious) abstinence, and the path to (exhibitionistic) contentment; on the other side, Iam here,
and my (gnostic) tavern; then, there is the conch shell (of Alam-i-Jabroot) and the path to the
idol house (my master's abode) and the path to fire temple (the gnostic congregation).

O Sufi!Apparently clean and sinless, but with several skeletons in your cupboard, totally bereft
and empty of mysticism! Don't deny me (the gnostic) wine, for that omniscient (hakim), in the
pre-eternal, has kneaded the dough of my disposition and nature out of pure, vintage (gnostic)
rack.

The (spiritually) denuded Sufi cannot be celestial, for like me, he has not mortgaged his khirqa in
the tavern in exchange for pure, vintage wine (i.e. these specious Sufis, ultracrepidarians, have
stuck to their worldly mantle and refused to go in for gnosis by sacrificing the objects of theJust).

He who has let go the skirt of his beloved (master) from his hand, would never attain to the
rapture of union with the celestial houri and the lips of her fountain (of love).

O Hafiz! If you really have the privilege of receiving God's favour and grace, become entirely
rid of the grid induced by the fear of hell and ridof the desire for the blissof paradise. (The
reasoning is that seekers of this world are doomed; the seekers of paradise are mercenaries and
the seekers of God are blessed-taaliban-i-duniya maqhoor und; talibaan -i-uqba mazdoor und;
talibaan-i-maula masroor)

37
Lyric50 (10 Verses)
1-5. (O master!) In the absence of the (radiant) sun of your countenance, light has forsaken my
day; and from this life, I am left with naught save the tarry (dark) night i.e. nescience or avidya).

At the hour of separation from you, I wept so much that away from your (refulgent) visage, no
light is left in my eyes.

After all this, of what avail it is to me if the beloved does appear and auspiciously steps forward,
for by that time, in my grief-afflicted body, no stirring (sign) of life is left.

From my eyes, your phantasy would go out and repent: "Woe betide that secluded spot which is
not inhabited by you, O master!"

That moment is drawing near when my rivals [themselves) would tell you : "O beloved ! Remote
from your door, that frail,
grief-stricken Hafiz is no more."

6-1O. The bitterness of your separation is from the ill-starred circular motion of the Wheel of
Time, unattended by your grace; I am consumed by the fire caused by the disclosure (of the fire
of my love) and the exposure of my burning separation (from you).

My union with you, O beloved master, was keeping the death off my head; now by virtue of the
wealth (favour) of your separation, death is no longer remote.

The only remedy for my separation from you is patience, but how can I persevere steadfastly
(endure), for patience is no longer within my reach.

(And then look at your decree, your draconian command) "If in your separation from me tears
are no longer available, ask him (Hafiz) to shed the blood of his liver for, after all, he is not that
helpless yet!"

Hafiz, on account of excessive grief, did not engage in laughter for the really grief-stricken has
no claim whatsoever on happiness.

Lyric51 (11 Verses)

1-6. The morning zephyr (the Divine impulse received in predawn meditation) has blown from
the navel of tartar (argol, a crude potassium hydrogen tartrate deposited as crust on the sides of
vine vats and present in grape juice and reposited during the fermentation of wine). Oh no, no! I
erred! It has blown from your street (O beloved master)! If in confrontation with your (rosy)
mouth, the rose-bud refused to blossom (and thus posed a challenge to your beauty), then, why
has the zephyr tore asunder its curtain? (In other words, since the rose-bud or the advanced
seeker stood up to your beauty, the zephyr or the Divine impulse exposed his hollowness and
compelled him to blossom, i.e. to speak up.) When I witnessed the coil of your hair, folded like a
chain (to fetter the lover's heart),my heart admiringly said : "I don't know what this crazy has
noticed in this bane (for the lover) ?" O master!Why do you enquire .about the plight of this

38
unlucky heart (of mine), which has endured the affliction caused by your (beauteous and
mysterious) Jocks of hair and the dark night of separation (from you) ? (O master!) Take pity
on these tears '(I am shedding in separation from you), which have ever trailed you a good deal,
distractedly chasing you. When Itold (my master), “Iwill drag your loch (of hair)" which are like
(black) serpents", he replied, "Let go this madness for none hasever pulled a plague- (calamity)
towards himself."

7-11. O master!He who bas never been bitten by a black cobra, how can he be even acquainted
with the state of the heart of the one who has been bitten by· your serpentine locks of hair '1 How
can he know the effect of their bite (i.e. their impact on the lovers) 1 How long can I keep my
grief (caused by your separation from me) hidden in my chest, when, out of that grief, my sighs
and sobs have reached the ninth sphere? (For nine spheres, see Lyric 45, Verse 9 supra.) You
asked: "O such-and-such! What is the state of your tear-filled eyes?" I reply: "What do you wish
to enquire from the one from whoseabode (being), for months and years, water (tears) has been
trickling?" (Omaster!) How long will you keep on promising: “I will soon come close to
you."Come here before the time when some ominous rival hears about my plight (and then pokes
his nose into my love affair with you)! (Obeloved master l) You said: "The night of Hafiz, the
unfortunate, is ruined.'' My whole life has passed and all the days too, without beholding you
(i.e. your radiant face); dawn has not arrived for me.

Lyric 52 (7 Verses)
1- 7. Of that peri-faced beloved (master) whose cheeks are like the radiant moon, there are a
thousand ardent lovers, like me. His chin (pit) is, for me, the perennial well (in which I am
arrested); in that well, God alone is my witness. What .do I care if he strikes the sword (of 'his
beautyand love) on me, when his ravishing ruby (i.e. his ruby-like heart, of ~he .. complexion of
the sun of Musallasi,orTrikuti, or Lahoot) is 'apologetic (about his strokes of love). The night of
honeymoon (shab-i-qadr or lailat-ut-qadr, when the spiritual striver has a glimpse of his beloved
Lord by embracing his living master) has the perfection(numen) of closeness (union) only
because it is blackas the scattered, distracted locks (of his hair). Why does 11e (i.e.beloved
master) make my eyes shed tears---that beauteous beloved who is the refuge (saviour) of the
entire Creation? (Now, tell me, my beloved master,) did you not say, "I wish to slay you on this
path (of love and gnosis)"! In celebration of that wedding (Joy), every day my gaze remains
fastened on ·that path (of gnosis, awaiting to be killed by and merged unto you). OHafiz Since I
have fastened (fida kard)my heart as well as faith (to you, O master), my parched lips and pallid
face bear testimony to it.

Lyric 53 (9 Verses)
1-5. (O beloved master!) Since the ends of your hair locks have fallen into the hands of zephyr,
(out of envy and jealousy.) my crazy heart' has split in twain, in two halves. The charm (spell) of
your eyes, in sooth, is the ink of all sorcery (i.e. your beauteous eyes, curious and fascinating,
pluck the heart of every mystery; they are the pulse of your soul) ; the only point is that. they
don't look ·up to· me and so I say they are sick (of me). In the bend (fold) of your hair locks,
there is a black mole. Do you know what it is? It is like the smoky· point in the circle jeem
(which is like heart and which is the fifth letter of Arabic, the sixth of Persian, and the seventh of
Urdu, so that it givesthe scent of your plot to slay your lovers. by emitting smoke from the inner
fire of your love, for there can be no smoke. without fire, and no fire without smoke). Owith

39
Jesus-like breath (which had the power to revive the dead) ! The shade of your cypress-like body
on my physical frame is likethe reflection of spirit (with power to enliven), fallen on my rotten,
decomposed and putrid bones. In the celestial rose-garden of your cheeks, what is your black lock
of hair like? It is like a peacockthat has dropped in the celestial garden (as an emblem of
incorruptibility, an archetype of resurrection, and as an evil eye or Argus-eyed for those
charlatans who revile you, jealously watchful. According to Grecian fable, the fabulous creature
Argus had one hundred eyes and Juno set him to watch everyone of whom she was jealous.
Mercury, however, charmed Argus to sleep and slew him, whereupon Junoi changed him into a
peacock with eyes on the tail).

6-9. O lover of my soul! In the ardent desire for your (glorious) visage, my heart has become
like-the dust of your path which dust has fallen into the hands of zephyr (i.e. in the care of your
Divine impulse, with a view to lift me and fetch me to you). But, then, this body of clay cannot
rise. in the wise of dust (at all), for from the top of your street it has come a purler (i.e. had a
headlong and spectacular fall). I have seen everyone who had had no destination save kiblah,
stationed on the door of the tavern (i.e. he has become besides himself, ecstatic and inebriated).
O my dear soul (i.e. my sweetheart)! Hafiz, who has become distraught by ·the grief (of
separation from you), has been united with you since time immemorial (the pre-eternal).

Lyric 54 (1O Verses)

1-5. (O beloved master!) In this whole (jumpy) real Jahan I have no refuge save Your door-sill;
from my head save this (i.e. your) door, there is no place where I can surrender (no point of
reference, no testimonial, no basis of my evaluation and spiritual assessment).

When the enemy (the satanic force) unsheathes his sword (to slay me), I yield and cast aside my
coat of arms, for my only arrow (and what a terribly powerful arrow it is !) is my lament and sigh
(i.e. my imploration to my beloved master for mercy and refuge).

Why should I avert my face from the street leading to the tavern (congregation of my beloved
master)? For, in this jumpy, springy realm(jahan) there is no better path and resort (rasm-o-rah).

If this Wheel of time becomes dead-set on putting the granary of my life to fire, ask it to burn it
out, for the simple reason that this life of mine is not even worth a straw.

I am the thrall of the saucy cheeky eye of that straight-statured, cypress-like (beloved master),
who by the wine of his (spiritual) pep and pride· (gharoor) does not turn his eye on anyone.

6-1O. (Oultracrepidarians, pharisaics!) Don't be intent on harassing me (by your fraudulent,

wily taunts), and you may do anything .else that you wish to do, for in our (i.e. gnostic's) sharia,
there is no other sin (other than loving the perfect master).

O the king of the dominion of beauty! Keep a tight rein on your (spiritual horse), control it and
limit its trot carefully, for on this path (of gnosis) there is none who is not an implorer (faryadee)
or demander of justice.

The (satanic) hawk of inequity has fluttered its (ominous) wings in all the cities (wherever the

40
gnostics meet in congregation or practise meditation in seclusion); what we lack is the bow
(weapon) of seclusion and the arrow of cri de couer (unto the living master).

(O beloved master!) Since in all directions and on all the paths I notice (satanic) snares, save the
shelter and shade (himayat) of your locks of hair, I find no refuge for myself.

(O worldlings!) Do not entrust the treasure of the (loving) heart of Hafiz to the ugly hair and
ominous moles of the charlatans, for such gnostic feats (for which Hafiz lives and works) are not
within the limited capacity of every blackguard and blackleg (swindler, quack).

Lyric 55 (11 Verses)

1-6. O my lovely friend! When you hear the word of a man of heart (a lover) don't pronounce: "It
is faulty and wrong" ; the fault lies in your own understanding O, (so-called) heart-ravisher; and
that is the tragedy, pitiable indeed!

My head does not bend before this world or paradise with all the mischief (billowing lusts)
seething in my head; it deems only God to be the appropriate haven for rendering homage.

I don't quite know who is it that is hidden in my broken heart so that even when Iam mute, it is
engrossed in wailing and is agog (ghogha). My heart has gone out of the curtain (of secrecy, so
that my love for the master has become exposed to all).

O minstrel (disciple-in-chief of the master), where are you ? Cry (lament) for my business was
well attended by virtue of that curtain of secrecy (and now that the secret of my love has been
divulged by my own heart, I am in trouble).

I had no inclination, whatever, towards the business of this jahan (jumpy realm where everything
is topsy-turvy) but, O master, your (refulgent) face (whose radiance has illumined this jahan) has
made it appear to my eyes as beautifully embellished.

On account of the fantasies seething inside of me, I have not slept for so many nights; the
delirium tremens (khumaar) of a hundred nights is on me; tell me, where is the tavern
(congregation of my master)? [for, this psychotic condition of mine would be countered only if I
drink more of the (gnostic) wine from my master's hands.]

7-11. In this state in which the prayer-hall (soma) has become soaked in my heart's blood, if you,
(O master) wash me out (i.e. wash the inside of me, so as to remove all dirt and filth of lust, greed
and ego) with {your gnostic) wine, Truth (Haq or Satt Purush) would hold your hand (support
you).

The fire-worshippers (the gnostics) hold me in very high esteem in their fire-temple (gnostic
congregations) because my heart has that fire (of ardent love for themaster) which would never
die (extinguish).

(O comrades! Tell me,) what was that instrument (i.e. the sound of "unstruck melody" or Saut-i-
Sarmadii which the minstrel of (gnostic) lovers played on? for my whole life has passed and yet

41
till now, my mind is inebriated by that sound ishabd.

The delirium tremens caused by the (gnostic) alcohol of my love for you. O master, was active
inside of me last night, as it is. Where was the time for offering (formal) prayer and making
imploration.

Last night, they sounded the call of your love inside of me; every fibre of the chest of Hafiz is
resonant with that sound ( Saut-i-Sarmad i).

Lyric 56 (12 Verses)

l-6. What a grace (of you, my beloved master) it was that the droplets (words that dropped from
your majestic and gracious pen) all of a sudden, presented the obligations arising from our
devoted service unto you, before your grace and favour.

(O beloved O master!) From the nib of your (mighty) pen, you have written "salaam" to me; may
the workshop of time (zamana) be never without your word (the Great Name .you reveal to your
ardent disciples).

Of course, I cannot say that you have unwittingly remembered me, the down-hearted one who
has lost his heart (to you), in a .moment of forgetfulness, for even from the calculation made by
intelligence, your pen can never commit a lapse (i.e. can never write anything unconsciously).

Now, in consideration of that rare favour (you have done me by writing a letter to me), do not
degrade and disgrace me (by ignoring me and becoming indifferent towards me), for the wealth
of Saut-i-Sarmadi has made you exalted and venerable (i.e. generous, kind and gracious).

Come on, so that I would enter into a covenant with your locks of hair, stipulating: Even if my head
is carried away (by you) I will not lift it from your feet.

(O beloved master!) Perhaps your heart would become informed of my plight, only when from
the dust of those slain by your grief' (caused by your separation from your lovers), anemone
would sprout.
!
7-12. (O master!) Help my thirsty soul by one draught (of your gnostic wine), especially because
the limpid water of khidr (the Emir of the Water of Life) is being poured into your Jamshedi cup
(for which sec Verse 4 in Lyric 45 supra).

The zephyr (Divine impulse} has conveyed the account of your (glorious) visage to each and every rose
(your disciple); I wonder, why did the rival give way to the ogler (the tale-carrier, the informer)?

My heart is firmly settled on your door-sill; give it· due regard, in consideration of the fact that God has
made you (spiritually) venerable.

O Hafiz! May you, O with Jesus-like breath (that revived the dead), all the time be (spiritually) ecstatic,
because the spirit of the broken-hearted lover of yours has become resuscitated by your breath.
Beware of the ambuscade (where the ultracrepidarians, the guileful, pedantic abstinents are in hiding,

42
waiting to attack you), and you are moving rather speedily (riding roughshod on their pretensions and
exposing their cunningness). Don’t act in a way that from the royal highway of your non-existence, only
dust would rise (i.e. go slow and act with patience and moderation, aitdaal, or else all your efforts
would end in dust and smoke, wind and vapour).

And, then, of what consequence is the plight of the heart of the ruined (lovers of yours) to you, for the
(spiritual) wine of khidr (the zinda pir) ever replenishes your Jamshedi cup.

Lyric 57 (7 Verses)
l-7. (O beloved O master!) I am tempted to apprise you of my heart's plight; I am greedy for telling you
of what informs my heart.

Notice my foolish desire-the desire to hide from my rivals what is an open tale of my love for you.

In the holy night (shabb--iqadr) of 27th Ramadan, the night of union between the murid and the murshid)
which is so distinguished and noble, I am tempted to sleep with you until the break of -the dawn.

Goodness knows! Such a delicate bead (of Jove) I have a keen desire to thread in dark night.

O zephyr! Do come to my rescue tonight, for lam greedy for· blossoming (i.e. the blossoming of the bud
of my devotion to my master) in the morning.

In order to gain (spiritual) nobility, I am tempted to sweep the dust of your path by the edges of my
eyebrows.
In order to afflict (outwit) the (false) claimants of gnosis, I am desirous of reciting the verses that would
induce (spiritual) ecstasy.

Lyric 58 (13 Verses)

1-7. (Omaster!) Your beauty, by the amity of its mellowness(malaahat) has captivated the whole
world; of course, by amity(concordance), the entire universe could be captured.

The candle (Divine refulgence on their faces) sought to expose the secrets of these (disciples of
yours) who had resorted to seclusion; thank God that the mystique of its heart (i.e. the Divine
impulse) held its tongue (i.e. kept it quiet and succeeded in keeping the secret of your lover's
devotion to you).

The rose wished to throw a challenge to your (rubicund) complexion and (mysterious) fragrance;
the zephyr, out of modesty (i.e. fearing disgrace) held its breath in its mouth (so that the rose-bud
did not blossom, afraid of being floored).

Every scar of my heart that has obtained the syringa persica-like wine (of love), has put on the!
anemone-like cap (crust on the wound) of rupture, in arrogance, saucily in a curved style.

That day when the reflection of (the rosy) cheeks of my cupbearer (beloved master) set my cup
of wine (heart) 1aflame, my love for the (gnostic) wine-cup burnt out my granary (of restraint and

43
patience).

Like a divider (compass) I used to saunter around the edges ; the cycle of time, at long last,
fetched (me from the edges) on to the middle (i.e. from the position of a mere spectator of the
living master, I became wholly engrossed in his love, almost as a centre Of his circle).

Vexed by the mischiefs, the row and ruckus (kicked up by the pretenders and preachers), which
have caught hold of this last era (the· current age); I wish to shake my skirt off them, and
(shaking the dust from my feet) I wish to go to the street of the fire-worshippers (i.e. the gnostic
seekers).

8-13. My master has written on the petals of the rose, with the blood of anemones: "Anyone who
has become my confirmed disciple, he is under the hold of the wine red as syringa persica" (i.e.
he has become ruby-like, with access to the region of Lahoot or Musallai).

(O my beloved O master!) Pour (gnostic) wine in my Jamshedi Cup, for the morning of the
(spiritual) tosspots who start carousing (the recitation of the Great Name) from early morning,
has held the whole world in its grips, in the wise of a (victorious) king aided by gold scattering
sabre (i.e. gnostic zest and enthusiasm has got the better of the world of cant, conformity and
Conventionalism).

O cupbearer, (i.e. O master!) Give me the (gnostic) wine, for anyone who has foreseen the end of
this (fleeting, perishable] world has come out of it, lightened by the burden of its cares and
concerns, and has held a heavy cup (of gnostic wine).

Find the spare time to see that whenever this (fleshly) world was overtaken by mischief (furore
caused by unseemly controversies launched by the prudes and the pedants, the gnostic poured
(spiritual) wine in his cup (heart and Soul) and turned aloof from the grief and anxiety (afflicting
this realm of deception and fraud).

(O seeker!) This radiant sun is a mere spark from the fire (of love) hidden in my breast, which has
set the firmament (the vicissitudes effected by the Wheel of Time) aflame.

O Hafiz! When the water of (your master's) grace trickles from your (poetic) composition, how
can any stranger find fault with it ?

Lyric 59 (l0 Verses)

1-5. (O striver!) The sum and substance of this realm bounded by space and dimensions (and
time) is not all this (fuss about secondary causes in which you are entangled); fetch the (spiritual)
vintage wine, for these (secondary) causes of the (phenomenal) world are not all there is to it.

The ultimate object (essence or gharz) of heart and soul is the grace of the company of the
sweetheart (the beloved master); this is all that matters; otherwise, heart and soul are not all that
you mean by them.

Don't put up with the obligation of siddrah {the lote tree of the utmost boundary; vide the Koran,

44
LIII, 14) and tuba tree (in paradise; planted by God with His own hand, and into which He
breathed His spirit so that it produces ornaments and robes of honour for the denizens of paradise,
as the Hadith has it), for the sake of shelter ; This, because all this (i.e. either the lot tree or the·
tuba tree) is not what matters (for, to attain to your beloved master you have to toil no end).

The real (spiritual) exaltation (daulat) is that which one attains without shedding the blood of
one's heart (in endless toil and trouble involved in ascetic practices and abstinence); otherwise, for
all the (arduous) endeavour and (ascetic) practices, the reward of the Garden of Eden is nothing
there is to gnosis.

In this life's ordeal, five-day respite is available to you; pass it in (gnostic) ecstasy, for this realm
bounded by time and space and confined to fleshly cares and concerns, is not everything there is
to (spiritual happiness) .

6-1O. O cupbearer (my beloved master)! I am waiting (in a state of hush) on the shore of the
ocean of self-effacement (Jana) ; know that I have neither the leisure to articulate a word (through
my lips) nor the time to eat (through my mouth), for this is not all that counts.

O tricky ascetic (zahid)! Don't become complacent at the game of modesty (of God who remains
silent at your fraudulent, inane, ascetic practices which make you ever remote from Him); this I
say because from the prayer service-hall to the temples of the fire-worshippers (gnostic
congregations) the ascetic path is not all that matters (when it comes to attaining merger unto
God).

To give vent to the pain and suffering of an afflicted and etiolated seeker like me, the external
necessity of speaking and elaborating is not all that is required. (What is required is to suffer the
pangs of separation from the living master, to augment the thirst for union with him and to be in
his embrace all the time and quaff the cups of gnostic wine ceaselessly.)

Don't worry about earning disgrace and loss of reputation, and remain happy like a rose in full
bloom, for the honour done by or for this fleeting, phenomenal realm is not at all that important.

The name of Hafiz (which means the one who remembers by heart the holy word of God as
revealed in the Koran) has taken to the Great Name (lsm-i-Azam)as revealed by the living·
master), otherwise the name "Hafiz" carries no weight in terms of(spiritual) loss or gain in the
eye of the (spiritually) ecstatic.

Lyric 60 ( 9 Verses)
1-5. When God assembled the form of your heart-ravishing eyebrow, He tagged the resolution of
my difficulty (literally, business) on your charisma and elegance.

Since the day whentime made you put on the kurta of silken brocade (gnosis), it installed
athousand cypresses of the garden i.e. (your devotees) on the dust ofyour path (made your
devotees lick the dust and become effaced unto you).

Since the morning tide tagged my heart and thatof the bird of the garden (your disciple, the

45
memberof yourcongregation) along with your Word (the Great Name revealed by you), it
hascarried awaythe comfort and peace from the hearts of both. (But) when the morning zephyr
(i.e. the wind of your grace and favour) tied up my heart with the path of your love, it resolved
the knot of the bud of my (spiritual) task and of my heart (i.e. it has resolved allmy problems and
made my heart supremely happy). True, that the Wheel of Time has made me acquiesce in my
captivity in your prison, but of what avail is that to me, when it tagged my end along with
yourpleasure.

6-9. (O master!) Don't tie a knot on my miserable heart in the wise of navel [which is a knot of
jad (gross matter) and chaitanya (divine energy)], for He has tied up my covenant (with Him, alast)
with your knot-resolving locks· of hair. O moment of union (with my master)! You yourself had a
different sort of life (that wasunusually happy and blissful); but, O master! now see my error, for
my heart has tied up my hope with Faith in you (which is so uncertain. and so I am on
tenterhooks) ! (O my beloved master!) Everyone who binds his heart in love with you, he will
attain to resolution of his tight bonds (with this fleshly world) by the magic of your zephyr
(Divine impulse) in the wise or a bud (which by the touch of zephyr'. blossoms into a ·rose).
(Look at this indifference of my belovedmaster, Oseeker l) I said to him, "Driven by the hand of
your inequity and cruelty J will packto leave your city"; laughingly, he replied, "O yesHafiz, be
gone, for who has tied up your feet" (i.e. he· replied, "Let me see how you go, for l have tied up
your feet with the string of your love for me").

Lyric 61 (10 Verses)

1-5. One who has taken to seclusion, what necessity he has for going to sec a tamasha? When he
has the street of the beloved (master) · to repair to, what for does h~ need \to repair to desert
(expanse of land far removed from worldlings) ? O my sweetheart (master) ! 'I adjure you in the
name of that dire necessity (haajat)that you have for God, to enquire of me sometimes, if not
now, as to what is my dire necessity (i.e. if you have dire-necessity for God, we have dire
necessity for you, O master!). O King of beauty! For the sake of God,I have become consumed;
at least, for once, question n:ie as to what this beggar (your lover) needs. Iam necessitous but
Idon't have the tongue· for begging; but, then, where is the need for my ardent desire to express
itself before the court of the benevolent (bestower) who giyes away .charity (without anyone to
ask for it). The luminous (enlightenedheart of my beloved (master) is a cup that is, like the cup of
Jamshed, the reflector of the cosmos (see the note on Verse 4 in Lyric 45, supra) ; where is the
need for expressing one's necessity before it? (for it knows all that exists or does not exist.) ·

6-1O. That time is past when I had to put up with the burden of obligation of the mariner (i.e.
this boatman or that boatman); when the pearl (my master) 'has come to hand, wherefore do I
need the sea ? O claimant (of gnosis, i.e.O pretender), be gone ! I have nothing to do withyou;
when the friends (the genuine saints .and sages who are even more cruel and more determined to
kill me -than my enemies) are present, where is the need for foes ? (O master!) ifyour target is
my blood, there is no need for you to fight ; when all that I have is yours, where is the necessity to
pillage and plunder? O begging lover! When the soul-enlivening lips of the beloved (master)
know all about your stipend (i.e. what you need), then, where is the need for demanding it? O
Hafiz! You wind up (this business of asking or explaining), for (your) virtue (quality) would itself
become evident; where is the need for argy-bargy and quarrel with the disputant (muddayee)?

46
Lyric 62 (8 Verses)
1-4. What can be more delightful than the rapture of the company(of the perfect beloved master)
and the garden (his congregation) and the springtide (of his grace and favour)? Where is the
cupbearer (the lovely master)? And ask him wherefore is he waiting (when all the gnostic
paraphernalia is available, all preparations to receive him are complete)?

What can be the essence (meaning) of the Water of Life and the Garden of Iram, except for the
agreeable vintage wine (of gnosis) by the bank of the water-channel (i.e. by the hands of my saqi,
my beloved master)?

Whatever happy time comes to your hand; take it as a rare good fortune, for nobody knows what
the end has in store for you.

You are riveted to life tenuously and precariously by a hair-thin cord; be sensible and attend to
your own afflictions; where is the need for bothering about this worldly workshop? (The
enchanted Garden of Iram is of old Persian Legend, planted by the mythological King Shaddad,
and for centuries sunk deep-in the sands of Arabia.)

5-8. O pretender! Enquire of those who are (spiritually) inebriated and (gnostically) ecstatic
about the mysteries hidden behind the curtains (of your body and mind); what clash or quarrel
can you have with the curtain-keeper (i.e. the one who is behind the curtain)?

When the ascetic (mastoor)and the ecstatic (the devotee or bhakt) belong to the same tribe (i.e. both
are seekers of God), I wonder to whose blandishments shall I lose my heart? What is the better
course?

When my master accepts in good faith even my lapses and errors and faults, what can the mercy
and compassion (ufoo aur rehmat) of the Sustainer (parwardigaar) mean (i.e. the Divine forgiveness
and compassion reaches the devotee through the conduit of the living master, not directly at all)?

While the ascetic has solicited for the wine of Kawthar (i.e. paradise), Hafiz has implore for the
(gnostic) cup (i.e. he has implored God from God Himself, not for this world or for paradise);
let's see who of the two (as between me and the ascetic) is more agreeable to the Creator
(Kardgaar).

Lyric 63 (7 Verses)
1-7. (O beloved master!) The image of your (glorious, beauteous) face accompanies me on air
the ways I tread; the zephyr blowing from your hair is the rivet for my lively and aware soul
(that fastens it with you).

Hear what the apple of his chin. is saying:“A thousand Egyptian Josephs have fallen into my well
(chah-i-zaqan)-the well of the beauteous chin).

Against your adversaries who deny (the ·reality of) love, your beauty and (glorious, attractive)
countenance is my pet (cherished and favourite) argument and proof.

47
If my (deficient) hand does not reach up to your (lofty) locks of hair (your majestic spiritual
height), it is the fault (gunah) of my own distracted destiny and deficient hand (i.e. it is the fault
of my fate and my slender spiritual resources and inadequate endeavour).

(O my master!) Tell the door-keeper of your specially secluded chamber: ''Such-and-such (i.e.
Hafiz) is (no ordinary human but he is) from the secluded ones of the dust of our own sanctuary.

Outwardly, he may appear to be hidden from our sight, but he always lives within the range of
vision of our exalted view.

If Hafiz ever knocks at any door (of ours) like a beggar, keep it open because for many, many
years he has been crazily fond of our moon-like radiant visage."

Lyric 64 (11 Verses)

1-7. (O beloved O master!) The coil of your lock of hair is a trap for infidelity as well as faith
(i.e. it can transmute a nullifidian into a faithful, and can transform a faithful. info an ardent
lover); of his adroitness (lcaarastaani); it is the least of his feats. All those (inane) talks of the
counsellor amount to is that the one who would issue the final order of punishment on the crime
of love and crying in separation (from his beloved) is lying in ambush (to attack the lover but,
then, what do I care about this threat of punishment). (O master!)

Your eternal beauty (jamaal or mysterium fascinans), is a (mysterious) miracle (performed) by

beauty, but your sauciness and jauntiness is an open secret(literally, a visible sorcery).

A hundred kudos to your black eye which is so magically skilful in the art of killing the lover.

What a pity that the path of love is queerish path; its sky is the seventh sphere (i.e. its zenith is as
lofty as the seventh sphere) while its earth is the seventh layer down below the earth (i.e. the
lover has to suffer endless agonies, ever being down in the dumps, suffering both at the hands of
the prudish worldlings and the teasing beloved).

(O lover !) You have persuaded yourself to believe that the vicious informer (the carrier of evil
tales) has gone lock, stock and barrel; (you seem to have forgotten his threat that) his calculation
(of your alleged miscreance) is entrusted to the care of the invisible accountants (munkir and
nakeer), who keep the account of man's deeds, good and bad, and question every dead person's
soul, and that they would definitely punish you for your crime of loving the beloved master so
shamelessly).

(But, then, O my beloved master,) how can 1 help my soul to escape your saucy eye (chashm-i-
shokh), which, like a bow (ready to shoot the arrow), is ever in ambuscade?

8-11. (O master l) I have spoken of your lips, dubbing them as the Water of Life; but, then,
where is the sense of calling them as (stagnant) water, for that is running water (perennial).

O my dear seeker, dear as my soul! Don't become complacent about the strategems of his (my
beloved master's) locks of hair, for they have already filched the heart, and are now dead-set on

48
abducting faith also (i.e. anyone whom my master chooses to captivate, loses both his heart and
soul, and becomes entirely his).

The accounts of the minstrel and wine cups, to the lovers, constitute the verses of (the scripture
of) gnosis (deen).

In as much as Hafiz has quaffed the (gnostic) wine from the chalice of love, he is, for this reason,
ever in the state of inebriation and ecstasy.

Lyric 65 (7 Verses)
1-7. (O beloved master!) The somnolence of your mischievous, cheeky, narcissus-like eye is not
for nothing; (likewise.) the glitter of the scattered gold of your locks of hair is not for nothing
(i.e. it is for fascinating and casting a spell on your lovers).

When l noticed the running milk (spiritual discourses) from your lips, I had declared: "These
sugary lips on your salt-pot (i.e. your face which is the salt of earth) are not for nothing (i.e. they
are meaningful and foreshadow your spiritual perfection).

Your mouth is the fountain of Water of Life (which confers eternity on those who behold it) hut,
then, below your lips, the well of your chin (chah-i-zaqan) is not for nothing (its purpose is to
submerge your beholders in the depths of eternity).

May you live long, for I know with certainty, that the arrow shooting from the bow of your
eyebrows is not for nothing (it straight drives your lovers towards nukta-i-sveda).

O my heart! Having become afflicted with grief and torture, sorrow and (pangs of) separation,
your moan and lament is not for nothing (it is for pushing you towards the spiritual zenith).

Last night, the wind blew from the head of his street towards the rose-garden (the congregation
of his ardent lovers); O rose (earnest seeker), if your bosom has become split (i.e. if you have
blossomed in full spiritual bloom), it is not for nothing (i.e. it inspires other seekers to feel the
master's spiritual breath).

Albeit, the heart keeps the pangs of love hidden from the vulgar, OHafiz, your weeping eyes
(which expose your ardent passion for the beloved master) are not for nothing (they serve to
show up the intensity of the spiritual fire that you set aflame in the heart of Hafiz).

Lyric 66 (12 Verses)

1-6. (O beloved master!) The curve that your cheeky eyebrows has thrown in the bow (at the
middle of which is the nukta-i-sveda, the crossing of which is essential for dying to the flesh .and
attaining the Lord), has been thrown in to make a target of the {fleshly) life of me= the etiolated
and miserable (lover of yours). (Spiritually) besotted and diaphoretic (inducing zest and
enthusiasm), when did you enter the .garden {i.e. the congregation. of your loving disciples), so
that the sheen of your visage set the red syringa persica aflame (turned on the heat on zestful
lovers of yourself, making them ecstatic)? Your narcissistic eye displayed only one charisma (one
divine talent) by way of. exhibiting (literally, selling) your majestic self (soul), but the .spell

49
which that eye of yours cast, .kicked up a hundred storms (literally, mischief or fitna) all over the
world (i.e. it has taken the entire universe by storm). Goodness knows that by dint of your
(majestic) gait, I am ruined and broken (kharaab-o-khasta, i.e. I have become besides myself,
turned ecstatic); which pen it was that drew that heart-alluring contour line (heart-captivating
stature)? By the shame of people's comparing the white rose with your countenance; the jasmine,
at the hands of the zephyr, licked the dust (felt completely overwhelmed and defeated). Last
night, in a state of ecstasy, when I was passing through the meeting place in the garden
(congregation), the sight of a bud (an earnest seeker) made me suspect of your mouth (the spell
of your spiritual discourse).

7-12. The moment the violet (banafsha) tied its locks of hair in knots, ·the zephyr (remembering
your locks of hair) began to narrate the tale of your own locks of hair. I am now washing my
khirqa (i.e. my being) by the water of wine of ruby (in the region of Trikuti or Lahoot, the colour
of which is red, with Hoo as the "m1- struck sound")·; my pre-eternal destiny cannot be thrown
out of my· "self" (surat or the quintessence of soul). (Oseeker!) Time has not, laid the
foundation of love at the present juncture; even before there was a trace of these two worlds (this
phenomenal world, and the world beyond); the mark of love had been formed. I would have
never so muchas looked at the (Gnostic) wine or (spiritual) minstrel because of my (essential)
self-restraint but then, my ardent desire (love) for those sons of a fire-worshipper (i.e. the gnostic
perfect saints) involved me in "this" (gnostic wine) and "that" (spiritual minstrel, i.e. the disciple-
in-chief of the master). And, now, this jumpy, springy,, passing, phenomenal world (jahaan) has
become moulded in accordance with my heart's desire, for the Wheel of Time (daur-i-zamaan)
has. made me a thrall of the khwaja (king) of the time (qutb of the age, waqt guru).Most
probably, the resolution of the knot of Hafiz (the knot of gross matter and supreme energy- jad
chaitan kigaanth) lay in this (worldly) 'ruination of' Hafiz, for his pre-eternal destiny has cast
him into the (gnostic) wine of (gnostic) saints.

Lyric 67 (11 Verses)

1-6. My heart is the theatre of the curtain of his love (i.e. love for the master of the 'age); myeyes
are the mirror reflecting the refulgence of his countenance:" I, who does not bend (bow) his head
before both the worlds (this despicable world and that commendable celestial realm -uqba, both
bounded by time and: space), my head (literally, neck) is under the burden of his (my master's)
obligation. (O abstinent I) On the one side, there is thou and thine repentance; on the other side,
there isI and the (full spiritual) stature of my beloved (master!)The contemplation (fikr) of
everyone is proportionate to his spiritual aim, receptivity and fortitude (himmat), (so that you can
make do with repentance, against gnostic wine, while Iever look for gnostic wine). The era of
Majnu has passed; this is our age (i.e. I am the Majnu of my age); (after all,) everyone has a
five-dayturn allottedto him. In that sanctuary (harem of my master), who am I? for it isthe
(Divine) zephyr which isin charge of the venerable curtain of the sanctity of his sanctuary. The
dominion or love-knot(aashiqi) and the treasure of (spiritual) rapture that I keep, is by the grace of
his favourable attention (i.e. all the spiritual treasure Ihaveis from the grace of my beloved master).
7-11. What does it matter if I. and my heart become extinct (Jana); as between ourselves, the aim is
to be merged unto the equanimity and tranquillity streaming from him (for that means. my baqa).
May the theatre of my eye be never without his image; this because, this corner (of my eye, i.e. my
spiritual vision) is a special gift (daulat) from him. If my shirt (i.e. my being) is sullied, there is
nothing towonder at (for Iam basically tarnished and stained with vices); (the relieving

50
circumstance is that) to his righteousness, the entire cosmosis a witness. Every rose (spiritual
striver) that became the adorner of the garden (the spiritual congregation of the master) is under
the impact ofthe colour (spiritual sheen) and fragrance (spiritual impulse) of the company he
keeps (i.e. of the master of whom he is the. disciple), (Oworldling!) Don't look at the outwardly
fuqr (mendicancy), for to Hafiz; his chest is the treasure of his (i.e. master's) love.

Lyric 68 ( 9 Verses)
1-5. From the court (sanctuary) of my beloved (master), I am expectant of a (special) grace and
favour; I have betrayed (his trust) and (now) my (only) hopeis fastened on his forgiveness. I
know that one of these days he will pass over my former faults; for albeit he is (sprightly) like
peri, he has angelic disposition (having beauty, purity and power' generosity and forgiveness;
while man was .made of clay, and the genii of fire, the angels were created from. pure, bright
gems). (Olovely, beloved master!) Your locks of hair are carrying away my heart without
making me speak a word (of protest), for before your heart-ravishing countenance, what face one
has to talk, to you (i.e. who can look you in the face, and who can fly in the face of a beloved
master like you) ? A whole life has passed since I smelt the fragrance of your locks of hair (i.e.
sinceI got the scent of your gnostic majesty and charm) ; my faculty of smelling even to this day
has that fragrance (persisting in it). That mouth of my master is sofine as if non-existent, for really
I could not see any mark of it (i.e. his beauty is not for seeing butit can 'only be experienced); that
back · of his is fine (thin) as a hair, but I don't quite know what type of hair it is (i.e. whose
backing he has in his spiritual valour).

6-9. I wonder why his fantastic image has not left my eyes although, at every moment, they wash
themselves (with tears), and cleanse. I wept so much (in his remembrance) that whosoever
passed by me, when he saw the running· tears of my eyes, he asked in wonder: "What is this
(running) canal (of water)?" In your street, I have kicked my head like a ball (i.e. in my game of
love, Ihave gambled away my head), but nobody could know as to what this ball was and whose
street it was. O Hafiz! You are in dire straits, but then, in the remembrance of the locks of the
beloved (master), your distractedness comes good.

Lyric 69 (Verses 7)
1-7. In the temple of the fire-worshippers (i.e. in the gnostic congregation) my beloved (master)
came down with the (gnostic) chalice in his hand (i.e. ready to deliver his gnostic discourse); he
was ecstatic with (Divine) liquor, and the tosspots (ardent seekers of gnosis) were inebriated by
(the gnostic) wine of his intoxicating narcissistic eyes.

From the calk of his horse (Brahmandi manas, higher reason whose intimation one receives at
the nukta-i-sveda), theform of the new moon had manifested (this moon is a narrow, waxing
crescent, one perceives after crossing the nukta-i-sveda which is far finer than the eye of the
needle); and in comparison with his tall stature, the size of the poplar tree looked very humble
and small.

Oseeker! How can I declare that he (my beloved master) "exists", forI am not aware of my own
"existence"; but, then, how can I say that he (my master) is non-existent, for all the time he is
visible to my sight ! (That is to say, the inner form of the perfect master can beperceived only by
an extremely advanced gnostic; to the novice, that inner form is non-existent.)

51
My corporeal form went on burning itself out like a moth on the candle-like beloved of mine,
from dusk to dawnwithout stirring the feet (i.e. steadfastly). But when that corporeal being of
mine rose (in the morning), the (burning) candle of the hearts of lovers (other seekers) became
extinguished; and when it sat down, the moan and lament of glance-players (who play the game
of love by gliding glances) rose.

If the fragrance of ghaliya (made by mixing ambergris arid musk) spread, it became riveted to his
(my master's) locks of hair; if vasma (Nile-blue dye, with which the people draw the form of
bow) drew the bow, it became attributed to his (my master's) eyebrows.

As it is (O lovely master!) come back, for the life of Hafiz that had passed out, has come in
again, although the arrow that darts out of the bow never returns.

Lyric 70 (9 Verses)
1-5. In this cycle of time (zamana)if there is a companion empty of (i.e. free from) distraction, it
is the ewer of pure vintage wine (i.e. the seeker having gnostic inspiration from the perfect living
master) and the bounded volume of love lyrics (ghazal: conversation with women; here it refers
to the discourses of the gnostic master).

(Ospiritual striver!) Walk alone (i.e. give up dichotomy, duality, abandon this fleshly world and
drop aside everything alien to the beloved master), for the passage way to tranquillity (spiritual
cecity or itminaan and aafyat) is narrow (it has no room for your eye, no room for anyone save
the beloved). Hold the cup (of gnostic formula revealed by the master and act on it), for this dear
life has no replacement (i.e. use this human life for the, purpose for which God created man).

In this (phenomenal) world I am not the only one depressed and dejected at the lack of praxis
(lack of recitation of the Great Name, not practising meditation and contemplation); the gloom of
the erudite scholars too emanates from theoretical learning unsupported by praxis.

Look into this world, full of dirt and din (aashob), by the eye (of higher intelligence) and you will
see that this (jumpy) world, and all the business of this (vicissitudinous realm) is transient and
disproportionate (clumsy, out of harmony with spiritual pursuits).

(Omy beloved master!) My heart was keenly expectant of union (i.e. beholding and kissing)
with your face, but then on the way of life, death is a waylayer (and can interrupt all hopes and
terminate all expectations of obtaining deliverance in this life).

6-9. (Oreader l) The dark face of the black-fated (i.e. ill-fated) which rests on the basis of pre-
eternal destiny (adi-karmas, pre-eternal forces) cannot be turned white by washing and
cleansing, as they say.

(The only way to whiten such a black face is to) catch hold of the locks of hair of a moon-faced
(living master), and not to waste your time in reading the tales that good luck and misfortune are
the effects of Venus (Zuhra) and Zuhal (Saturn) respectively.

52
You may probe into the base of anything in this phenomenal world and you will discover that it is
decadent (moving towards destruction and likely to perish sooner than you imagine); and you
willalso notice that the base of love (mohabbat) is a base that entirely gets rid of disturbance, corruption
and decadence.

These worldlings will neverfind him (Hafiz) at any time in his senses, for our Hafiz is ever and anon
ecstatic with the pre-eternal wine (of gnosis and love for the Lord and His saints on the earth).

Lyric 71 (7 Verses)
1-7. My heart as well as my (old) religion are gone (lost to me) but my heart-ravisher (my
beloved master) is determined to damn me (disgrace me), for he says : "Don't sit by my side, for by
your presence with me, my peace is gone."

Have you, O reader, ever heard that a person who, only for a while, sat in peace inside the
assembly of the beloved, arid was not made to leave in shame and disgrace, at the end?

(For instance) if the candle proudly jeered and sneered at the laughing lips (of the moths), in
retribution, it had to remain standing for nights after nights before your lovers. (O master!)

In the garden, the spring zephyr blew off the embrace of the rose and cypress, out of its
fascination (desire) for the (master's) cheeks and stature.

Try to pass by the side of the denizens of the region of Malkoot (the region between the nukta-i-
sveda and Jabroot, the Thousand Petalled Lotus) in ecstasy, and you will immediately witness the
clamour and uproar of the doomsday (i.e. ruckus) raised by the wayfarers to see your spiritual
tamasha.

(O my master!) That contumacious cypress (seeker) who raised his head proudly (in rebellion)
against your (spiritual) stature and size (majesty) could not take one step forward before your
(spiritual) speed (alacrity, liveliness and briskness).

O Hafiz! Cast your khirqa (mantle or posture of a Sufi saint) to thy ground, so that you could
perhaps save your life (from the hands of the worldly-wise), for from the granary of chicanery and
craftiness, fire has become aflame (i.e. the fraudulent and the pretenders are up in arms against me).

Lyric 72 (8 Verses)
1-8. (O companion!) You have seen that (my) beloved (master thought of nothing save
perpetrating cruelty and inequity on me (i.e. my love for him has remained and in exchange for
my love for him only displayed cruel and callous indifference towards me; he broke all my (old)
vows (i.e. old values and beliefs) and yet he never bothered about it.

O my Maker! I don't hold him (i.e. my master) responsible (culpable) and don't put him to retribution
even though he has thrown away and ripped up my heart which was like a domesticated pigeon (the slaying
of which is unlawful by any standards of justice and equity) and did not pay any heed (i.e. showed any
regard) to it and made a prey of it.

53
It was my own evil fate which subjected me to this inequity and faithlessness (jafa); otherwise, as for my
beloved (master), assuredly (for the life in me), both by his custom (habit) and by his wont, he does not
follow· the way of inequity.

My heart with all sorts of infidelities, humiliation and disgrace which it suffered at his hands, wherever it
showed up (went), nobody accorded him the slightest honour (i.e. everywhere I was looked down upon
by people).

O cupbearer (my beloved master)! Now fetch the (spiritual) wine to me and tell my adversary (the
pretender, the cunning, self-styled spiritualist) not to deny me (i.e. my gnosis), for he does not have such a
cup (perfect master) as I have the Jamshedi cup.

Every seeker who could not negotiate the (spiritual) path leading to the portal of haven (hareem), that
miserable fellow continued to wander in the desert (like the folk of Moses) and could not make it to the
mansion (of the beloved master).

Blessed and hallowed is that ecstatic, inebriated gnostic who cast this (fleshly) world and the uqba
(paradise) to the wind (i.e. disregarded them utterly and cared only to attain to the Supreme Lord, Haq or
Satt Purush), showing no concern for less, (trouble) or more (sensual) pleasure.

O Hafiz! Carry the day against your adversary by your euphony and fluency, for the adversary has no
(spiritual) talent (hunar or virtue) and he is not (spiritually) informed (lively or alacritous).

Lyric 73 (9 Verses)
1-5.I saw him (my beloved master) sauntering at a leisurely pace and in absolute (spiritual) ecstasy ; with
the chalice of (gnostic) wine in his palm (i.e. gnosis was raining from his being), he was strolling towards
the assembly (majlis) of the inebriated (disciples). He was strolling in a casual manner, straight as a
cypress, and passing by my side as if my life is passing away, as if he was walking off, withdrawing
from this slave (i.e. me) in utter contempt. When I called him, "Omy ancient love", he (took umbrage
and) scolded me (harshly), and becoming weary and sick of me, he left. He was posing as the ruler of
Khwarizm and as the bank of the majestic Oxus river; with thousands of grouses he was walking off
the land of Solomon (i.e. Shiraz), (and you know who it was that was going away)! He that was
going away was the one whose spiritual quintessence nobody could estimate and recognize, as
indeed none could comprehend the mystique of his (glorious, gnostic) discourses! T was seeing it
(his going away from Shiraz) and I felt as if my spiritwas marching off my body.

6-9. I said to myself: "Who will now speak to us so sonorously, with such felicity.' so
euphoniously and fluently, for that one with sweet tone, and euphonic and graceful fluent and
mellifluous, the eloquent talker was going away. I implored him a good deal, entreating him not
to go away but it was of no avail, for the events were taking place which crossed the limits of the
compassionate eye of that (spiritual) Sultan (i.e. by his endless, infinite ·compassion, the
despicable plebeians – the crowdof spiritual swindlers-were becoming more and more
contumacious). Imploring his mercy, I said, "O(spiritual) Sultan! Pass over (forgive) his

54
(adversary's) transgression." But what could that burnt out (unwanted and ignored spiritual king)
do? In utter despair (total loss of hope of redemption of the sinners) he was leaving. (When a
living saint's counsel falls on deaf cars and even his own disciples begin to ignore him and not
follow the path he has shown, he repairs to the Divine abode.) When that beloved (of mine) was
vanishing from (the) sight (of Hafiz), tears were flowing in a stream, dropping from his cheeks
on his skirt.

Lyric 74(10 Verses)

1-5. The fasting (Ramadhani has ended and Id has arrived. In the tavern (spiritual congregation),
the (gnostic) wine began to boil. over and people asked for more and yet more.

The (happy) time for the sellers of abstinence (the fraudulent merchants of asceticism) was gone;
the propitious hour of rapture and delight of the (spiritually) inebriated (gnostics) struck.

One who quaffs (the spiritual) wine like me; how can he be faulted and censured, for this
allegation of (spiritual) drinking is neither a fault nor an error (lapse) which can be attributed to
the lover of (spiritual) ecstasy.

That drinking of (spiritual) wine in which chicanery is involved is far better than that
salesmanship of asceticism which is replete with exhibitionism (only to impress others) and full
of guiles and wiles.

I (the gnostic) am neither crafty and cunning, nor am I the supporter of hypocrisy (pharisaical,
righteously hypocritical); anyone who is the knower of(gnostic) mysteries, would bear testimony
to this state (of the gnostic).

6-10. We (the gnostics) are here to redeem the debt unto God and we don't play foul with
anyone; and that which they (the pharisaics) call as unlawful (love and all), we deem and declare
it to be wholly lawful.

After all, what will happen (the heavens would not fall and the earth would not split) if I and
thou, O master, join together (in spiritual congregation), quaff (the gnostic wine, i.e. discourse
about gnostic subtleties) from a few cups (of gnostic wine of spiritual secrets that induce spiritual
ecstasy); O pharisaic, after all, this (spiritual wine) is the blood (quintessence) of grapes
(saints); it isn't your blood!

It is not a (spiritual) fault which should disturb the equanimity of anyone, anywhere; and, if (for
the sake of argument), it is deemed to be a fault (by the stupid, dissembling spiritualists), then
show me a man who is entirely faultless.

O Hafiz! Quaff the (gnostic) wine (fearlessly, without any let or hindrance) and don't vex and
harass anyone; for, to torment and torture homo sapiens is indeed a fault, plain and patent.

(O beloved master!) Hafiz is distracted by the love for your khat-o-khaal (i.e. your outer and
inner beauty); he is like a divider (compass) in your hands, but the centre of his heart is at one
place (i.e. you and you alone).

55
Lyric 75 (14 Verses)
1-7. The secluded corner of the dervishes (gnostic saints) is the garden of empyrean; service
rendered to the dervishes is the treasure (literally, capital) of honour and distinction.

The key to the opening of thecorner of dervishes' seclusion, which is a wonderful talisman
having peculiar magical and protective powers, lies in the favourable attention of the dervishes.

The celestial castle whichpersonally reported to the garden (where the dervishes live inseclusion)
for doing duty of door-keeping, is just a theatre of the beautiful, lively garden where the
dervishessaunter.

The company of the dervishes has such an elixir that it would transmute a black-hearted
(blackguard) into gold, if he were to partake the shadow (shelter) of the dervishes.

There is that sort of (spiritual) exaltation in the(spiritual) dominion of the dervishes that before it
the radiant sun would cast its crown of pride (i.e. would be humbled and outshone).

Listen to it with care and without entertaining the slightest hesitation that the Republic of the
dervishes is that Republic which faces no threat from any usurpation or decay.

The worldlykings are the kiblah (object of worship) of the world(lings) but that is only because
they are in the thraldom of these magnificentdervishes (saints), (whose grace has made them kings,
in the first place),

8-14. The radiant face of which the kings of the (phenomenal) world are the seekers, its theatre is the
mirror of the face of the dervishes (i.e. those worldly kings who wish to attainto glory here have a
chance to come good only if they succeed in receiving the grace and the favour of the dervishes; or
else they would come a cropper).

Oaffluent! Don't display conceit, for the basis of all your power and leadership (Sarwari)lies in the
favourable attention of the dervishes (i.e. if they withdraw their favour; you would come a purler).

The treasure of Korah which continues to be swallowed (by the earth) under the impact of the
wrath (of God), you must have read about it that it was to guard the honour and modesty of the
dervishes (cf. The Koran, XXVIII, 76-82).

I am the bondsman of that master of the age (asff-i-ahd), in whose era, kingship is merely the form,
whiledervishi (sainthood) is the ultimate end.

O my heart! If you really desire the water of eternal life, know that its headspring is the dust of
thedoor of the secluded spot of dervishes.

If, on one side, from one end (of the phenomenal, fleshly world) to the other, there is the array of
oppression, on the other side, from the pre-eternal to the end, the dervishes have complete respite
(from affliction, wrong andoppression).

56
O Hafiz! At this place observe all reverence, for here the sultan as well as the angels are all in the
thraldom of the court of dervishes.

Lyric 76 (10 Verses)

1-5. For long, the infatuation with the (beautiful) idols (beloved saints) has become my religion;
the grief caused by this workshop (of love) is indeed the rapture and delight for my grief-stricken
(love-smitten) heart. (O beloved master!) To behold your (spiritually radiant) visage, the eye of
the spirit (inner eye) is required; but, then, where is the status (vision) of my eye which can onlysee
this (fleshly, fluctuating) realm (but which cannot perceive your reality). Since the day my
ardent-passion (ishq) for you has instructed me in the art of discoursing, the tongue of the people
has been occupied in eulogizing and admiring me. O Lord! Bestow upon me the exalted
dominion (daulat) of fuqr (saintliness), for this marvel (karamat)is the cause (source) of my
(spiritual) glory (hashmat)and dignity (tamkeen), (O worldlings!) Ask the serrnonizer closely
acquainted with (i.e, aided and buttressed by) the police inspector, not to displayhauteur and
hubris (i.e. not try to overawe and scare me by his hypocritical righteousness aided by the power
of state), for my poor, miserable and humble heart is the .destination of the Sultan himself.

6-10. The custom of slaying the lover and the wont of taking a whole city (of lovers) by storm is the
marvel of my tawny and saucy sweetheart (my beloved master, the beloved par excellence). From
whom has your image (in my eye} learnt the art of generating rivers (of tears)? Perhaps, these
tears of mine which appear as the constellation of seven stars (parveen or the plough of Ursa
Major) show~1p the path to him as the bestrnan (to my beloved master). O Lord! whose
pilgrimage is this Kaaba of ultimate spiritual destination, the acacia (trees) of whose path are, for
me, like roses and eglantine ? (i.e.the path to my beloved master may be full of thorns, butto meit
is the bed of roses.) O my beloved (master)! Listen to me! The embellishment of the firmament and
the adornment of terra-firmais from your moon-like countenance and my Great Bearish tears.

O Hafiz! d’ont recite additional tales of the awesome distinction and splendour of the King
Khusroe Parvez (for which refer to Shah Namah, op. cit., pp. 484-526), (and whose beautiful
queen was Shirin; ibid., pp. 527 ff.); this because his lips (i.e. those of Khusroe Parvez) sip the
draught (of sherbet) from my Khusroe (my sweet, beloved master whose beauty is as ravishing as
that of Shirin- the queen of Khusroe Parvez).

Lyric 77 (7 Verses)
1-7. (O beloved O master!) Your (inner) countenance (form) nobody has been able to behold,
and yet you have a thousand rival (lovers); you are yet in a budding state (not yet a fully grown
rose spiritually) and yet you have a thousand bulbuls (lovers).

If I happened to enter your street, there is nothing odd about it, for like me, in your street (dayar)
there are thousands of strangers (come to have a glimpse of you).

Even though I am remote from you (i.e. from your inner form), I wish that none be far from you;
but as for me (despite being remote from your inner form), the hope of union (with your inner
form) is quiet close to me.

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In the affair of love, the khanqah (convent, monastery) and tavern (congregation) are not a
necessary condition; for (to the lover) whatever place there is, there he sees the beloved's own
reflection (and nothing else).

Whatever is adding sheen and splendour to the worship-hall-conch shell, temple, monk or the
cross is there only in name (for the real source of splendour of the worship-chamber is the
radiance shining forth from the beloved master's countenance).

O seeker! Who is there (in the world) who has become a (genuine) lover, and the beloved
(master) did not take (favourable) notice of him? Okhwaja (claiming to be a lover of the perfect
living master)! You are devoid of pangs (of love); otherwise the healer (i.e. the perfect living
master) is just round the corner.

All this imploration (faryaad) of Hafiz is not an exercise in futility; it is an amazing tale and a
peculiar account (hadith).

Lyric 78 (17 Verses)

l-6. (O beloved master!) There is no eye which is not light by the (radiant) reflection (lustre) of
your visage; there is no sight which is not under the obligation of the dust of your door (i.e. every
seer is obliged to you from his spiritual vision).

Of course, it is only the men of perception who are capable of perceiving you (inner) visage, but
nevertheless there is no head which is not haunted by the mystique of your locks of hair (i.e. your
outer form and discourses).

What is there to wonder, if my tale-telling tears have come out red-faced (flushed with
embarrassment), for there is curtain-ripper (veil-lifter, one who exposes other's secrets) who does
not feel embarrassed at his activity(of exposing hidden secrets (of love).

(O lovely master!) Why do you tie the girdle of spite around my fragile back, for there is no girdle
of love (devotion to you) which is not tied around my heart and soul

(i.e. O beloved! Don't lookdown upon this wounded, burnt-up lover who has gone through every
single flame that rises from the furnace of love for you).

In order that the zephyr (i.e. the wind of my reputation as your lover) may not deposit some dust on
your skirt, there is no path or by path which has not been flooded by the tears of my eyes.

In order that the tale of the mystique (fascination) of your dark hairs may not spread everywhere,
far and wide, there is no morning in which I did not have an argy-bargy (literally, speaking and
hearing) with the (morning) zephyr (i.e. in my morning contemplation I ever pray to God that my
secret of love for you may remain hidden).

7-11. O beloved master! I am the only one who is afflicted by (the curse of) my bad stars (and not
a beneficiary of your grace); otherwise, there is none other who is not the recipient of grace from
your street (that is all other devotees of yours are favoured by you but you have chosen me to

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inflict special ordeal of affliction).

O fountain of (water of) life! By the image of your sweet lips, there is no candy (no other sweet
devotee of yours) which is not submerged in (your) perspiration [the spiritual fluid secreting from
the Gnostic glands of your (lovely) skin (i.e. which is not immersed in your Divine impulse)].

My tears (shed in remembering you) which are so heavily obliged to the dust 'of your door, have,
in turn, obliged in a hundred ways, the dust of the doors of everyone (i.e. 'there is no dust on
anyone's door which my tears have not obliged in a hundred ways).

As for my being, it exists only in name, as a mere mark to show that it does exist, otherwise there
is no effect of infirmity and debility from which it does not suffer.

Oh master! In the path that leads to your abode (i.e. which you have prescribed for attaining to
the Lord), there is no conceivable (satanic) peril which does not infest it, and yet in the wild
expanse of craze (ishq) for you, even a lion (satanic, egocentric, conceited wayfarer) becomes as
meanly (humble) as a fox.

12-17. I am not the only loser of heart (to you), whose liver is soaked in blood (i.e. wounded and
smitten by your love); there is indeed no liver (i.e. no lover) who is not wounded by the arrow of
pangs of love from you.

I cannot take a single step away from your lane (of love), otherwise there is no wanderlust which
does not haunt a person who has lost his heart (to a beloved master like you).

Luminous flame (of divinity)! I wonder what (gnostic) mystique you have (hidden) in your head
(heart and soul), for I find no liver (no lover of yours) who has not turned into kebab by your
(spiritual) flourishes (harkaat).

It is not expedient to lift the veil from the face of mystery, otherwise there is nothing of which
the majlis (assembly or congregation) of the (spiritually) ecstatic are not aware.

Of course, for the lily-livered the poltroon, the caitiff, the spineless, the pedants, the theoretical
warriors) the journey of ardent passion (ishq) is unlawful (forbidden), for there is no hazard
which does not haunt the wayfarer (the gnostic lover) at every step.

Except for the (negative) point that you have made Hafiz unhappy (by your utter indifference),
there is just no virtue which you don't have in your entire being, from head to feet, O beloved O
master!

Lyric 79 (9 Verses)
1-5. (Obeloved master!) Your nest (abode) is the canopy (the theatre of my eye (i.e. I constantly
behold your abode); show me your favour and come down to me, for this abode (i.e. my heart) if
your own abode (i.e. in my heart nothing exists save you). By the delicacy of your mole (external
beauty) and lineament (inner spiritual quality and features), you have ravished the hearts of the
gnostics there are marvellous subtle jokes (lateefey) lying hidden under you (spiritual) mesh (trap)

59
and grain (spiritual pabulum). O bulbul of the rose-garden (i.e. O lover of the beloved Lord!)
May your heart rejoice by your union with the rose (your beloved master); this because the
(entire) garden (i.e. congregation of the lovers of the master) is echoing your own sound of love.
Entrust the treatment of the frailty of my heart to the care of your lips (which are like corundum,
yaqoot)for this panacea, in your spiritual hospice, is from the corundum (rubicund, the colour of
Lahoot). I am short of the blessing (daulat) of rendering service to your corporal body, but the
substance of my soul (i.e. my surat) is the dust of your door-sill.

6-9. What of me even this tricksy (shaubde baaz) sphere (i.e. the Wheel of Time) trembles (with
fear and anxiety) at your (spiritual) crafts which are in the bag of your (spiritual) guises (i.e. you
have quite a few tricks up your sleeve). O master!I am notthe one who can make a present of his
heart to every cheeky (pretender); (I have presented· my heart to you because) on the portal of
your spiritual· treasury, there is your seal and stamp (i.e. the seal and insignia of a perfect
master). O rider of a royal steed (royal hussar), the performer of sweet spiritual feats! Can you
disguise your (spiritual) majesty and valour in the guise of a doll?-You, who keeps a tight rein,
byyour (spiritual) lash, on a refractory and restive horse such as the sphere (the Wheel of Time)!
O beloved master! Now the melody of your majlis (congregation) is making the firmament dance
(in spiritual ecstasy), (i.e. even the high and mighty conventionalists are dancing in ecstasy by
hearing the Saut-i-Sarmadi you have madeyour disciples to hear); this, because, the verses of
mellifluous Hafiz have become your own melody.

Lyric 80 (7 Verses)
1-7. (O master!) I have now attained to the place where the spaceless and timeless is; at that level,
there is no trace either of(space) or of the heaven (time). O seeker! To his face, don't both ofyour
eyes; nor both of your lips (i.e. don't try to behold -him or speak before him), for at that level
(where my beloved masterthere is neither the courage to see, nor the strength to talk. Thedale
through which I have traversed, that is no place for"wherefore" or "what for" (i.e. whys, wheres,
whos, whats, are all irrelevant and out of place), for in that state there is neither form(soorat), nor
feature (shakl); neither body, nor soul. O bulbul (loving disciple)! Why don't you become the
lover of that rose (i.e. that perfect master) who is not like the one that blossoms at the advent' of
the springtime (the opportunistic, fake saint) but he is likethat rose which remains unaffected by
autumn (by satanic contumely and derision). It is true that that Sheerin-like beloved master is
under the (divine) obligation to subject his Firhaad-like lover to the deathly ordeal (wabaal) but,
then, at the station (maqaam) of ardent passion, there is no ordeal of death (for there, the lover
hasto die only to his flesh, so that he can be spiritually revived). In the path of wehdat (becoming
one with God), the credo of Mansur (anal Haq) was (is) an error, in that on that path, how can
there be the sound of lips and the movement of tongue? (both of which necessarily become mute,
or else one cannot listen to the Saut-i-Sarmadi). O Hafiz! Don't go roundabout the abode of your
beloved (master), for the midnight is on, and the (invisible) watchman there is wide awake (and,
therefore you also keep awake in the remembrance ofthe beloved master}.

Lyric 81 (11 Verses)

1-6. The ascetic, the worshipper of externalia (like rituals, ceremonies, rules and regulations, cant
and superstitious practices) is not acquainted with· our (inner) state; as it is, whatever he blurts
and blusters about us, is not, in the least, an occasion for petulance (i.e. it need not make us
peevish or sullen). In tariqat (gnosis), whatever (hurdle or hindrance) appears before the seeker

60
is for the best, for O heart of mine, on the straight path, no wayfarer can be misled. Let us see
what turn the chess-game (of love) takes (literally, what face does it show up); I will keep on
moving my pawn, for on the board of chess (of love), the ecstatic (lovers) cannot take liberties
with the kings (i.e. in the path of love, it is only humility that is the viaticum; hubris is the bane
of lovers). O my Maker! What sort of indifference (istaghna) it is, and what sort of omnipotent
judge my beloved (master) is, that he keeps on inflicting hidden wounds (on his lovers) and they
don't have even the gumption (majaal) to cry "ah!"? What sort of simple, lofty roof with a great
many engravings it (my beloved master) is? No savant in this world knows anything about this
puzzle (that my master is). It is as if the master of our books of accounts, does not know the art
of calculation for he is not willing to let go the slightest trespass on the part of his lovers, even
under the head: "For the sake of the destitutes and beggars."

7-11. (But, then, look at my masters's generosity, for he says:) 'Whosoever wishes to come, ask
him to come; and whosoever wishes to go away, ask him to be gone; in this majestic court, there
is no catching or holding (i.e. nobody is forcibly caught or kept);'there is no doorkeeper, no
watchman' here (in his court, so to say, calumny and malicious attacks on the master is the only
watchman to keep off those who do not have the capacity to love him and who melt away at the
merest touch of heat). There (in the master's court) whatever befall us, is because of our /own
discordant being, our own unsuitable, hubristic posture; .otherwise, your robes of honour (i.e.
your grace), O master, would not be found wanting or short on the stature of the tallest or
thinnest (i.e. everyone could partake of your grace and favour). (O worldings!) To go up to the
doorstep of the (spiritual), taverns, is for those who are unicoloured (i.e. who have given up
duality, I and you, night and day, good and bad, hot and cold those who are free from all pairs of
opposites and are coloured in the dye of gnosis and total love for the beloved master); for the self
sellers '(self-opinionated, self-focussed, duplicitous, dualists, multi-coloured, self-conceited,
hubristic, arrogant and egoists), there is no ray in the lane of vintners of (gnostic) wine (i.e. the
saints whose sole-concern is spiritism). I am the thrall of the master of such a (spiritual) tavern,
whose grace is perennial; otherwise, the favour of the sheikh (the pedantic preacher) and (the
pharisaical) abstinent is tergiversatory (literally, now it is there, and then it is missing). O reader!
If Hafiz sits as the head (of the assembly of seekers) it is only because of his exalted spiritual
receptivity (himmat); the lover of dregs (i.e. the lover of the lowliest and the meanest of men) is
not a captive of worldly' fiches and rank.

Lyric 82 (9 Verses)
1-4. (O beloved master!) Your lock of hair, by just one of its hair, has tied up (fascinated) a
thousand hearts; it has barricaded the way of a thousand astute and resourceful healers
(charaagar) on all the four directions (i.e. every beholder who was claiming to be steadfast,
before your beauty, became helpless and fell head over heels in love with you).

He opened up his musk navel (gnostic treasure)so that the zephyr (the Divine impulse) could
strew his (spiritual) fragrance all over the lovers who may give away their life unto his beauty
and fragrance; and then he (the master). shut their door (heart) to all other desires (save the desire
for you).

Ibecame infatuated and crazy (by his beauty), for my beloved showed up to me his eyebrows
which are like the new moon and manifested his luminescence (through the nukta-e-svedai) and

61
then (sprightly) covered his face.
That cupbearer (of mine) poured his multicoloured (gnostic) wine into my cup (heart); see thy
(spiritual) engraving on this pumpkin (i.e. me who resembles the pumpkin in respect 0£ a thick,
orange rind, pulpy flesh and numerous seeds), how beautiful theylook!

5-9. O Lord!I wonder whatspellthe ewer (i.e. my master, in whom God had poured His gnostic
wine) has cast by which he has Closed the blood (red wine) from the pitcher (the container of
wine· from which it is poured into the ewer), together with the melodies of its gurgling sound
(qulqul) inside the gullet (of the drunken, the devoted disciple. In other words, the master
madethe disciple quaff the gnostic wine in such a way thathe was no longer in a position to
articulate hisecstatic experience, and became dumb).

When the (spiritually) astute (i.e. the perceiver), witnessed the love-play of that celestial smoker
of hookah (the sound of which is Haq, Haq or Satt, Satt'), his (heart's) turmoil ended and he shut
the door of all conversation.

What a melody the minstrel commenced to sing, that behind the curtain of ears, those who had
attained to ecstasy and state of bliss, became absorbed in that melody as if they were closed· in
the chamber of Haq(the sound of Hahoot or Sunn) and Hoo (thesound of Lahoot).

I said, ''I am going to speak of the beauty and quality of his (master's) visage" and on hearing it,
he showed up his countenance and shut the door of all talk.

O Hafiz! He who desired union (with the beloved master) but did not fall in ardent love with
himis like the one who became resolved on circumambulating the Ka’aba of the heart, without
resorting to ablution (inner cleanliness to get ridof lust, anger, greed, attachment or delusion and
ego, 'envy and jealousy, duality and hatred, sloth and impatience) --both are doomed to failure.

Lyric 83 (7 Verses)
1-7. With his locks of hair scattered (i.e. ecstatic), wet withperspiration (softened by Divine
impulse), with his smiling lips (ready to impart Divine message) and inebriated (with a posture
.that would simply intoxicate the beholders), with his kurta split (the Divine secrets oozing out of
his chest), reciting the love lyrics· (songs of devotionto the Lord) and holding the ewer (of
spiritual wine) in his hands (i.e. ready to deliver his gnostic discourses), with probing
mischievous eyes (that would drive the wits out of a beholder and would nonplus himcompletely)
and with sigh on his lips (at the spiritual inaptitude and incompetence of his disciples), he· (my
beloved master), at midnight· and in a state of (spiritual) intoxication, came up and sat down on
the side of my pillow. He brought his head down towards my ears and spoke in a doleful voice:
"0 my sour and surly lover! You are still sleeping?" (i.e.it is time to .get up and meditate and
recite the Great Name dhikr and fikr; what sort of lover you are that' you are still asleep?)
Now, a lover who is thus treated by his beloved (master) giving him and making him quaff the
(gnostic) wine throughout the night, if such a lover is not a(gnostic) tosspot (literally, a wine-
worshipper), he would be branded as an infidel in the court of love (ishq). 0
(pharisaical)abstinent! Be gone and don't blame and find fault with the drinkers of dregs (the
lowly, humble lovers of the living master), for in the pre-eternal, He has not bestowed any gift on
me save this (peerless) gift of love. With whatever he (our living master) filled my chalicethat I

62
drankwhether it is the celestial wine or gnostic wine thatmakes me ecstatic. The laughter
(blooming joy) of the cup of (Divine) liquor and the knotted '(mysterious) locks of hair of my
beloved (master) have broken (violated) so many pledges (not to 'drink) like the pledge of Hafiz
(i.e. no seeker can but stir spiritually at the mere sight of the beloved master, utterly disregarding
the falsely imposed restraints).

Lyric 84 (9 Verses)
1-4. (O beloved master I) My eyeballs, on account of weeping (ceaselessly, in your
remembrance) have become fixed (soaked, nashista in blood i.e. reddened)! See, in what state,
men are landed by their desire (seeking) for you.

In remembrance of your ruby-like lips (discourses) and the inebriating eyes which are like
vintage wine, I am quaffing the ruby-like (red) wine (pertaining to Lahoot or Musallasi, Trikuti,
the region of Three Prominences) from the chalice of grief (caused by the pangs of love for you):
that wine is my own blood (i.e. I am dying to my flesh to become spiritually revived; twice-born).

If the sun of your radiant face were to rise from the. East (the region of Haq or Satt Desh) of your
street (Divine abode); my luck would be deemed to be overshadowed by huma (a fabulous,
oriental bird which never alights but is always on the wing. It is said that every head which it
overshadows will wear a crown).

One has to become a Firhaad to be able to talk about the (lovely) lips of a Shirin; one has to be a
Majnu to be qualified for talking about the folds of hair of a Laila, (O seeker!). (In other words,
if you fondly talk about the sweet lips and the mysteriously beautiful locks of hair of the beloved
master, make sure that you are as ardent a lover as Firhaad was or as Majnu was. So check your
credentials of a lover.)

5-9. (O beloved master!) Attend to my (broken) heart, for your (stately) stature is like the heart-
captivating stature of the cypress (the archetype of ideal beauty); articulate the (Divine) word, for
your word is recondite (lateef) and (spiritually} apt (mozoon).

O cup-bearer (beloved master)! Relieve my spirit (of its agony) by making the (divine) wine-
cup go on circling round; this because, by the cruelty of the revolution of the Wheel. of Time
(i.e. the fluctuations and vicissitudes of the phenomenal world), my heart (khatir) is afflicted.

Since the time my beloved comrade (i.e. my lovely master) has gone out of my hand (i.e. has left
me), the edges of my eyes are flowing (tears) like the river Jayhun (Oxus).

How can my afflicted soul be joyous and happy by my own free will which is outside the gamut of
my discretion (i.e. my so-called free will is conditioned by the mauj or freewill of my master).

In a state of unconsciousness (when one is besides oneself, be-khudi), Hafiz seeks the beloved
(master), in the wise of a (spiritual) destitute looking for the (spiritual) treasure of Korah (the
perfect master)! (Is it not odd; O seeker?)

Lyric 85 (11 Verses)

63
1-6. I am both grateful to, and a complainant against that heart-sustaining beloved (master), O
reader! If you are a knower of the subtleties of love, you must listen to this tale (of mine)
carefully.

Whatever service I rendered unto him was without any obligation or consideration but, then, (the
master to whom the service is rendered must invariably be kind and generous) may no patron (to
whom the service is rendered without any consideration) be unkind (and ungenerous).

(What a pity that) nobody offers water (love) to those inebriated (of love) whose lips are parched
(thirsty of water of love)! It is as if from this (sensual) world, the recognisers (identifiers) of walis
(Godmen) have departed.

O my heart, don't get entangled in his (i.e. that of the beloved master's) locks of hair which are
like an ambush, for you will see lots of heads severed without any transgression or crime (on the
part of those whose heads he has chopped off, save. the crime of falling in love with him).

What can be the (conceivable) form or the end of that path (the master has revealed)? for, right at
its beginning, there are a thousand ordeals (manzil) you have to confront.

O master! Your eye, in its amorous ogle has gulped down my blood and (the fun of it is that) you
still very much like your eye (that has done it to us)! 0 my sweetheart! To support and take the
side of the blood-shedder is not permissible.

7-11. (O lovely master!) Albeit you have carried off (i.e. ruined) my name and sheen (reputation
of being an ascetic, untainted by love), yet I would not avert my face from your door, for to me,
at this stage, the inequity and cruelty committed by the beloved is far better than the concession
offered by rivals.

O sun amongst the beauteous! My heart is throbbing (with pain caused by your separation); for a
moment, give me refuge (accommodate me) in the bosom of your grace and favour.

In this dark night (inflicting pangs of separation), the end or destination of my path has vanished;
O kindly star of guidance, (North Star), come out of your hidden corner (i.e. become manifest
once again)!

Wherever I went (in quest of you, O master,) no gain accrued to me except that it added to my
distraction (and agony); I am absolutely at .the end of my tether, seeing this endless expanse of
desolation and this endless path (leading nowhere without you).

O lover! Love itself would reach you for your succour if, like Hafiz, you recite and remember
the holy Koran, fully comprehending its fourteen mystical layers (tiers of Koran placed one
above and below the other).

Lyric 86 ( 9 Verses)
1-5. My firmly resolved head (dead-set on loving my beloved master) is on the door-sill of that
stately beloved of mine, for whatever is befalling my head, is by his own firm determination (i.e.

64
as I am dead-set on loving him, he is dead-set on vexing and teasing me). Although .I put the
visage of my beloved (master) face to face with the images· of the radiant sun and the shining
moon, I found them wanting in comparison to the splendid countenance of my beloved (master).
0 lovely master! Every petal of the rose_ that is there in the rose-garden (i.e. every gnostic seeker
in your congregation) offers itself as a· sacrifice unto you; every cypress (advanced seeker) that
stands on the banks of the water-stream is dying in fascination for you It appears that you have
combed your musk-sprinkling hair, for the wind has taken to rubbing the ambergris and musk ·
together to produce the unique fragrance of Ghalya, and the dust has already acquired the smell
of ambergris. (Since) your face has come to view (I take it as a good omen and I am certain that
now) I will attain to my desire (for union with you); this because, a good omen (divination) is
always followed by a goodly state.

6-9. What interpretation can zephyr put on our troubled heart (dil-i-tang-i-maa), which is like a
neap of the crumpled leaves of the bud, one layer after another. I am not the· only drawer of
water from the pitcher of this temple (tavern} which consumes the heart and soul of the
pharisaical abstinents; there are a lot more heads which have become the stones and pitchers
(permanent fixtures) of this door-sill (of my beloved master). To dilate on his beauty; even the
tongue of the faculty of speech is mute (literally,what, then, is the scope of writing for the
tongue-severed frivolous and senseless chatter of a pen. The heart of Hafiz has .been burning in
the fire of quest (ishq) not only in this phase of the moving cycle of time; he has been carrying
that red, anemone-like stain (scar) since the pre-eternal ! (i.e. he has been soaked in bloodshed
byhis beloved masters, generation after generation, since this Creation commenced.)

Lyric 87 (9 Verses)
1-5. In the fire of grief caused inside my heart by the separation from my beloved (master), my
chest has become consumed (burnt out); there was such a fire aflame in this abode (khana of my
heart) that it incinerated my entire cabin (body, kaashaana).

By virtue of farness from my heart-ravisher (beloved master), my body has melted away (faded);
by the fire of separation from the (coolant) visage of my sweetheart (beloved master), my soul
has been consumed.

Whosoever has beheld the chain of locks of hair above your peri-like face, he became distraught
and his heart burnt in the fire of jealousy for this Majnu of yours.

Notice the degree of heat of my heart by the fact that the burning heat of my tears (I shed in your
remembrance) last night, gracefully and as a stroke of mercy and favour (coup de grace), burnt
out the candle of my heart as a candle burns out the moth.

Whenever I gave a pledge (tauba, repentance) of not drinking (the gnostic) wine, under its
weight, my heart shattered, like the cup (against which I repented); my liver burnt down (became
sour and bitter) like an ewer deserted by wine and the chalice.

6-9. Don't talk about the details (maajra) and come back (to me, O master), for the ball of my eye
has cast aside the mantle (khirqa of shame) and has incinerated it in thanksgiving to you.

65
That beloved of mine who has burnt out my heart is no alien (he is my own beloved master); my
love has gone to the extent that even the hearts of rank outsiders (aliens) have burnt out (on
seeing the burning of my heart in the fire of his love).

The mantle of my (earlier) asceticism has been washed out (eroded) by the flood of water from
your tavern (i.e. your gnostic congregation), while the chest of intellection has been burnt out by
the fire of the furnace where (your gnostic) wine is fermented. (As it is, I am now devoid of both
asceticism and discursive reason; I have become a gnostic, pure and simple).

O Hafiz! Abandon tale-telling (i.e. go fly a kite, go away) and for awhile quaff the (gnostic)
wine; this because, I did not sleep the whole night (in my master's remembrance) and the candle
(of my heart) melted away in telling the tales of ardent passion for my beloved master).

Lyric 88 ( Verses)
177. O cupbearer (beloved master)! May the Id be felicitous (mubarak) to you, and may the
promises (of union with your lovers), that you have made may not slip from your memory.

I am astonished to see that in this long spell of separation (from your lovers), you have held your
heart hack from your comrades (lovers) and that this (cruel act of yours) was acceptable to your
heart!

(O messenger!) Convey the salaam of the daughter of the (gnostic) grape wine (to he loved
master) and tell him to come out (of his seclusion), for it is the spell (breath) of my devotion to
.him and my receptivity to his discourses that has released him from the prison (of privacy and
seclusion).

The happiness and joy of the members of your majlis (congregation) lie in your (holy) feet and in
your coming to them; may every heart who is averse to your happiness, find itself in a tight spot.

May the evil eye remain off, for from this spell of separation(distance-tafarqa), our well reputed
destiny and your (spiritual)exaltation since birth (maadar zaad) has well brought you back (to
us).

Thank God that the wind of this autumn (simoom of separation has not bedevilled (hindered and
thrown into confusion) your garden of white rose, cypress, rose and poplar (i.e. your congrega-
tion which is embellished by gnostics of different levels, hues and categories).

O Hafiz! Don't let go from your hand that ark of Noah (the perfect living master), or else the
buffets of the phenomenal world would extirpate your (gnostic) foundations.

Lyric 89 (10 Verses)

1.5. O Saqi (beloved master)! Fetch the (gnostic) wine, for the period (literally, month) of fasting
(separation from the master) has gone; give me the chalice (i.e. deliver your intoxicating
discourses once again), for the time (literally, season) of calumny and slander is past (i.e. we
are no longer affected by slanders and notoriety).

66
Valuable time has gone waste (i.e. without our drinking your gnostic wine); come on now, and
let us make up the loss for the wastage of that chunk of our life which has passed without the
presence of the ewer and the cup (i.e. without our beloved master and his. inspiring and
stimulating discourses).

How long can anyone keep on burning in the wise of aloes-wood in the heat of your expectation?
Fetch the (gnostic) wine (now) for my whole life (so for) has gone waste in frivolous
phantasmagoria (sauda-i-khaam).

Inebriate me in such a way that in my state of unawareness (bekhudi. the state in which I am
besides myself), I may not even know as to who came in and who went out of the wide expanse
of my fantasy.

In expectation of a draught from gnostic cup to reach us, in the tavern (the congregation hall), every
morning and evening, solications were preferred to you (for your acceptance).

6-10. The heart that was (spiritually) dead (without gnostic zest and pep), got a fresh lease of life,
since the moment his nose received the fragrance from the zephyr of his (i.e. master's) spiritual
(gnostic) wine.

The (pharisaical) abstinent suffered from hubris (gharoor) and so he failed to find safe passage
(on the gnostic way); the ecstatic gnostic (rind) had humility as his viaticum (tosha on the spiritual
path) and made it to the abode of tranquillity (i.e. attained to the Supreme Lord, Haq or Salt
Purush).

O (pharisaical) abstinent! Damn yourself and make do with your so-called secluded corner and
necessitousness! As for the lovers (of the living master), their frame of reference is perennial
rapture (at the feet of their beloved master).

That bit of my heart which was cash (current in this phenomenal world) was black and gilded
(counterfeit, simulated and sham) and was expended on fleshly wine, and very rightly it was
squandered on the forbidden cause.

But, then, (O self-styled counsellors!) don't admonish Hafiz again, for admonition does not find
any way (i.e. does not work) with the one who has effaced his (carnal) self and for whom the
wine of his (i.e. master's) love has come good.

Lyric 90 (7 Verses)
1-7. O worldling! My cupbearer is Khidr (the Zinda Pir, the perennial master), and my wine is
the Water of Life (that would take me back to my Supreme Lord); fie! how can Ipledge to
abandon the (gnostic) wine? From the lips of the sweet-lipped (master), even bitter wine (the
master's rebukes and admonitions for my wrongdoing or for not exercising appropriate spiritual
discipline), in sweetness could put candy to shame (i.e. the master's hammering or admonition are
sweeter to me than candy). The zephyr that blows by the master's Divine impulse) is like the breath of
Jesus which by its grace and delicate touch confers life on one

67
 who has been (spiritually) dead for a hundred years (the old, ancient sinner purana paapi). (O
comrade!) These difficulties of mine (hurdles in the gnostic path) would not be resolved except
by the water of fire (of love) that is the (gnostic) wine. O friend! Look at our daily portion (rozi),
that from the high office (dewan) of ardent passion (ishq), except for the authority of receiving the
liquor of separation (mai hijraan) Ireceived no token (gift voucher or baraat, for receiving any
other provision, i.e. the only food an ardent lover is condemned to receive is separation from the
beloved). The soul of that ecstatic seeker who finds tryst with death in the street of the fire-
worshipper (i.e. the beloved master) is ever blessed. O Hafiz! In this world, the surnmum
bonum (highest or supreme good) of your life is the rack (vintage wine of gnosis); all the rest is
trivial trash and rubbish (turrhaat).

Lyric 91 (8 verses)
1-4. O cupbearer (disciple-in-chief or the master) ! Come on, for the beloved (master) has lifted
the veil from his face (is ready to open the floodgates of gnosis). The (extinguished) lamp of the
(spiritual) work of those lying in secluded corners has become rekindled.

That extinguished candle (the gnostic seeker despairing of spiritual vision) has once again put on
a luminous countenance and that ancient, old disciple, whose life has consumed so many years
has become young anew.

The passion of love (ishq) gave out such blandishments (ishwa) that the mufti (expert in and
adviser on the laws of the Koran) went off the way (deviated from his conventional path); the
friend (beloved master) showed up that grace (lutf) that the foe took to precaution (i.e. went off
his rocker and himself became crazy.

(O beloved master!) From this mellifluous and heart-captivating discourse of yours, one seeks
refuge in God, for it sounds as if your mouth has wrapped the words in the folds of sugar.

5.8. The burden of the grief which had wounded our hearts was lifted by one with breath like that
of Jesus, despatched to earth by God (as his plenipotentiary or vice-regent).

Every cypress-sized charlatan or fake saint with tall spiritual claims), who used to brag and boast
of his (spiritual) beauty, claiming to excel the moon and the sun (in respect of splendour), took to
other occupation (retiring from his self-appointed gurudom) the moment you manifested yourself
(as the perfect master of the age).

All the seven minarets of the sphere (i.e. the seven spiritual regions) are echoing with the resonance
of this story (of the discourses of the perfect master bf the age and yet, O pharisaical abstinent,
you are deaf to his voice!); look at the short-sighted ones, for even they have comprehended the
crisp reasoning of this simple and short message (of the perfect muster of the age).

O Hafiz! Tell us from whom you picked up the art of making such an entreaty that the beloved
(Master) has made an amulet of your verses, and stuffed it (that amulet) in gold (i.e. made it
attractive to the seekers of gnosis).

Lyric 92 (9 Verses)

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 l-5. O lovers of (gnostic) wine! The red rose (the perfect master of the age) has blossomed in
full blossom (i.e. has become manifest), and the bulbul (the lover par excel/ence) has turned
ecstatic (i.e. the disciple-in-chief has become kinetic); now raise the shouts of (spiritual) bliss.
The foundations of tauba (pledge of abstinence from gnosis) which, in respect of firmness,
looked like hard rock, see how the fragile looking cup (of gnostic wine served by the beloved
master) has smashed it. O cupbeater! Fetch the (gnostic) wine, for in this chancellery (baargah)
of indlfferenct (istaghna or be-niyazee), whither the sentry (padsbaan) and whither the sultan,
whither the clever and whither the ecstatic (i.e. the perfect master is no respector of persons and
treats all, patricians. and plebians, the smart and the simple, alike), When from this double-
doored caravan-serai (one, for coming here and the other for going out of it), exit is obligatory,
then it is immaterial for the balustrade of the arch of life to the lofty or lowly (i.e. everyone,
irrespective of rank and riches, is born the same way and passes away by the same route). The spot
of ( spiritual) delight is unattainable except through toil and tears (involved in spiritual discipline
as prescribed bythe master ofthe age, and to be loyally observed by the ardent seekers); after all,
in the alast covenant, man pledged his loyalty unto God· when Heasked him, "Am I not your
Lord?" (and man replied, "Ye, verily, we testify!"; the Koran, VII, 172).

6-9. O seeker!Don't afflict your heart with the issues of "being" (or existence) and "non-being"
(or non-existence); and remain happy (and satisfied), for everyone or thing that attains to
perfection (in this phenomenal, fleeting realm) is destined to decay and extinction. The sheen
(shikoh or splendour) of Asif (the grandiloquent vizier ofmajestic Solomon) and the steed of wind (the
throne of Solomon by the wind on his shoulders) and the conversation of birds (which Solomon could easily
understand) -all these were cast to the wind (i.e. perished) and the khwaja (the. possessor of these attributes
andpower) gained nothing out of these (literally, could pack nothingto carry yonder, on death). Do not go off
track on account of your plumes (hubris and pride) and feathers (worldly possessions); for your arrow (taJl
claims based on your ego), for a while shone up (in it spurious glory and lethal power) and darted in the air,
but sooner than you expected, it came a purler and licked the dust. O Hafiz! What can the power (literally,
tongue) of your pen do to give thanks to him (your living master), for the gift of his word people carry away,
hand to hand (i.e. in delight and rapture, without caring to test and try, they are carried away by his word).

Lyric 93 (10 Verses)

1.5. I could not savour of the sherbet from his rubicund lips (i.e. couldn't fully comprehend and digest his
recondite gnostic points), O reader and he (my beloved master), in the meantime, left! I could not even see,
to my fill, his moon-like form, and he departed!

So much as to say that he had become weary of our company; he packed up his luggage (spiritual effects) and
he left before we could turn close to him.

We offered a great many prostrations and hosanna and the prayer of Harz-e-Yamaani (which the Prophet
had composed for his comrade Ali Karram Allah Wajhahu), and we recited before him the Surah Ikhlas
but he left.

He ordered me: "Don't break (violate) my command by asking me not to go! We did not avert our faces
from his command, so that he departed.

He was cajoling us with flattery saying : “I am not going away from the street of your (spiritual) object

69
(i.e. I am not going; I'm with you as ever, my dear devotee)". O comrade! You have now seen how we
were taken in by his blarney, taking us for a ride, and he went away .

6.10. He asked (literally, strolled) in the sunshine (literally, garden) of beauty and grace (of God), but as
for us, we did not (have the good fortune to stroll in the rose-garden of union with him, and left."

He said: ''He who seeks union with us should, at first, become severed from (i.e. dead to his (carnal) self";
in expectation of (union with) him, we cut ourselves off from our (carnal selves), but he left us.

His (beauteous) form, in respect of grace and comeliness had effect (token or mark) of God! Our eyes
could not see him to their fill, and he departed.

The rose from the garden of his union was our daily portion (rozee), our allotted share to which we
had full right) woe betide us and fie be on us, we could· not smell it, and he left us!

Throughout the night, like Hafiz, we moaned and lamented; but, woe betide us, we could not reach
him to bid good bye and he went away.

Lyric 94 (11 Verses)

1.6. I heard this cheerful message delivered by the Pir-i-Canaan' (Jacob- the father and lover of Joseph :
“The separation from the he loved does not do any such thing as may be articulated" (i.e. itis something
which beggars description).

The account (hadith) of the horrors of the doomsday of which the city sermonizer spoke, is a hint
(symbolic) of the torment of the days of separation (of the· lover from the beloved).

Afterall, from whom shall I enquire of the traces of the beloved (master) who has departed? for whatever
tile zephyr (i.e. my guess and speculation) spoke about it, sounded disoriented and disjointed.

I can only moan and lament, for that unkind moon, the friend of my beloved, who in departing from me
acted as my enemy, made the act of his deserting the company of his disciples appear such an easy
affair (i.e. the moon who witnessed my master's departure was not affected in the least and described
that departure as a routine, inconsequential matter);

O striver! Exorcize the ancient devil, the pain (caused by the pre-natal, adi karmas) by the ancient,
vintage wine (of love which is more ancient than the ancient pain); for it is ordained by the rural
(ancient) pir (i.e. the perfect master), that this (seasoned wine of love) is the seed of (spiritual)
cheeriness.

This done, I will be there, and my acquiescence his (my master's) will and my gratitude to my rival
(who kept me in the dark about my master's departure); for now my heart has cultivated the habit of
suffering from the pangs of your separation, and has firmly resolved on, and declared its
abandonment of, all remedies(for its pains).

7.11. O seeker! Don't try to tie the wind (i.e. your carnal desire) even if it blows according to the
goal of your ardent desire. [In other words, don't build castles in the air and perpetrate self-dece-

70
ption]. Don't fly in the face of Divine dispensation which is conditioned by your own deeds, good or
bad. Even Solomon could not command the wind not to straighten his crown which by its gusts
turned askew. When he asked the crown as to why it was acting crookedly, the crown replied: ''I
will turn awry if you turn crooked.'' When he pledged to straighten his heart, his crown became
straight so much so that when he tried to make it crooked, it remained straight. (See Mathnawi
Rumi, volume IV, Section 77, Verses 2010-2025, .pp. 136-37.)] I say this because this counsel
was given to Solomon by the wind itself (see Mathnawi Rumi, Volume I, Verses 1135-55, pp.
119-20; and Volume III, Verses 5060-7?, pp. 330-31).

Don't take resort to "why" and wherefore" when it comes to love, for the lover (of the master)
who is acceptable to the beloved (master) acquiesces in every word spoken by the beloved
(master).
By the drive of blandishments (blarney) displayed by the sphere (the Wheel of Time), don't leave
off the path; who has ever told you that this filthy, anile hag (the fleshly world or Madam Bubble
or Maya) has promised to abandon her wiles and guiles.

Quaff (the gnostic) wine with the beloved (master), for last night, the master of the (gnostic)
tavern gave a great many accou1nts of that compassionate, forgiving and merciful Lord.

O beloved master! Who has told you that Hafiz has become fed up with thinking about you
(i.e. loving you)? Of course, I never said it, and whosoever told you this, uttered falsehood.

Lyric 95 (7 Verses)
The garden yard is the bestower of (spiritual) pep and enthusiasm, and happy and joyous is the
company of the beloved (saints); may the season of the rose (the master of the age) remain
nourishing, for on account of him, the (spiritual) tipplers are having a good time.

The smelling faculty of our soul, ever remains gay on account of the zephyr (that carries our
beloved master's captivating fragrance). O yes! Oyes! The purity of the breath of the lovers of
God) is enrapturing.

Hardly had the rose lifted its veil (i.e. hardly the perfect master had become manifest for
everyone to see him) that the intention to depart sounded the tocsin. O bulbul (the Disciple-in-
chief)! Lament, for the rose of the moaning of wounded hearts (such as yours) is very
efficacious (literally, pleasing).

There is good tidings for the birds that warble the whole night (i.e. the seekers who recite the
Great Name all the night, when the worldlings sleep and snore), for in the path of love, the
beloved (master) is extremely pleased with the moans and laments of those who keep the
(spiritual) vigil in the nights (up in arms against their diabolical tendencies).

Though, in the bazaar of this (fleshly) world, heartiness (cheerfulness of heart) is only in name,
yet, the wont of ecstasy (shewa-i-rindee) and cheeriness (khush-baashi) of the loving comrades
is v.ery agreeable and wholesome.

From the tongue of hyacinth (sosan or liliaceous plant) this (mysterious) voice came to my ears:

71
"In this ancient temple (of the perfect master who is the emblem of the ancient of the ancients,
the Lord), the business of those who have become lightened (i.e. thrown off the burden of their
worldly cares and concerns) runs smoothly.

"O Hafiz! The abandonment of this (fleshly) world is the tariqa (path) to cheeriness; don't
imagine for a while that the state of affairs of the worldlings is happy (in the least).

Lyric 96 (8 Verses)
1-4. Ozephyr! If you happen to pass by the clime (region) of the beloved (master), fetch for
me, the fragrance of the ambergris from my beloved's lock of hairs.

By his soul, I will scatter my soul itself by way of thanksgiving, if from my beloved (master) you
bring to me some message from him.

And should you not be able to get a way into his auspices, by any means or manner, then do
fetch for my eyes, some dust of his door (to be used as collyrium).

(What a plight I am in), I am (spiritually) a destitute and yet Ihave a burning desire for union
with him! Perhaps, Iam only longing to have a glimpse of the beauty and sight of my beloved
(master) in dream.

5.8. My poplar-like heart (faint, brittle and knotted) is tremulous (in excitement and anxiety) like
the willow, despairedof seeing the stature (gnostic majesty) and (spiritual) height of my poplar-
like beloved master.

Even though, my beloved (master) is not willing to buy me (redeem me) in exchange for
anything, yet I will not sell off even a single hair of his head (i.e. will make no complaint
whatever) in return for this whole world.

If for a night I could stay at the portal of the beloved (master) what excuse would I be able to
proffer to the dog guarding his street? (i.e. despite all its barking, Iwould make it to his portal.)

When this miserable Hafiz is the thrall and meanly servant of the beloved master, what will it
matter to him (to the master), if the heart of Hafiz gets released from the dungeon of grief
(caused by his separation from his beloved master).

Lyric 97 (8 Verses)
1.4. The bulbul (the advanced gnostic) said to a newly blossomed rose (a novice, a gnostic tyro):
"Don't preen, for in this garden (congregation of devouts), many a flower like you have
blossomed."

The rose (the tyro) laughed (i.e. became bloomier), saying: “I am not pained by hearing truth but
no lover (bulbul, the lover of rose) ever speaks harshly to the beloved (i.e. I am dear to the
beloved master of whom, O bulbul, you are the lover too. Don't speak harshly and slightingly
about your beloved master).

72
O seeker! if you have the longing to quaff the red (gnostic) wine from that (spiritually) embellished
chalice (the beloved master), you must thread (pick up) the (spiritual) pearls and corundum by
the edge(s) of your eyelids which involves a good deal of courage, fortitude and steadfastness).

Anyone who has not cleansed his cheeks with the dust of the (Gnostic tavern (congregation or
satsang) of the beloved master, till eternity his nose would not receive the fragrance of love (of the
master).

5.8. When last night, in the enchanted garden of Iram (the living master's congregation, as exalted
as the Garden of Iram, planted by the mythological king, Shaddad, and for centuries sunk deep in
the sands. of Arabia) by the grace or (Divine) zephyr blowing in the morning, the locks of the
liliaceous plant (the disciple-in-Chief) scattered.

I asked him: "O the exalted throne of Jamshed (the disciple-in-chief)! Where is your famous
(seven-ringed golden) cup, (typical of the seven heavens, the seven planets, the seven seas etc., full
of the elixir of life)? (In other words, where is the beloved master gone?)_ He replied: "Alas, that
ever awake (spiritual) dominion has gone to sleep (i.e. although the living master has left for his
Divine abode, his form is yet kinetic and will remain kinetic until his successor becomes fully
manifest).

The passion of ardent love (ishq) is not a matter which can be articulated by tongue; O cupbearer,
give me the (gnostic) wine and cut short this argle-bargle (speaking and hearing, wordy
wrangling).

The tears of Hafiz have cast his patience and-intellect into the sea; what else he could do, when
he failed to conceal the burning caused by the pangs of love (i.e. pangs of separation from the
beloved master)?

Lyric 98 (9 Verses)
1-5. (If) the Sufi could discern the mystery of (gnostic) love from the reflection of the (gnostic)
wine (i.e. from his gnostic appearance or gnostic wine), from his ruby-like lips (discourses) you can
discover the essence (gohar) of every (gnostic) seeker.

The key (sharah) to the understanding of the totality of the rose (the perfect saint) is known to
the fowl held by its spell (viz. the bulbul alone, the perfect seeker and, of course; the disciple-in-
chief); I say this because it is wrong to say that anyone who comprehended one (spiritual) level or
(fold of the perfect muster) he has comprehended his core (maani).

O my master! I presented both the worlds (this sensual world and the world beyond, uqba or
paradise to my well-tried, (spiritually) seasoned heart; but except for your love, it rejected
everything else as perishable.

That stage is now past when I would worry about the wagging of tongue by the vulgar and their idle
gossip (about my passion of love, ishq for the master), for now even the (State) Superintendent of
Public Morals, has come to know of my secret love affair (with my beloved master).

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My beloved did not consider my (spiritual) pleasure of union with him as expedient for the time
being; otherwise, he had fully understood and appreciated my heart's urge (for the union).
6-9. Everyone who has realized the (spiritual) worth of the wind from Yemen (Arabic Felix, i.e.
the saints and sages), by his mere sight, he can transmute the stone (the stony-hearted worldling)
and clay (the despicable man of straw) into ruby and corundum (worthy of attaining to Lahoot).

O you, such-and-such, who (seeks to) learn from the office of intellection, the art (ayat) of love-
making (with the perfect master), I am afraid you cannot comprehend this recondite affair by
intellectual investigation into the truth of it.

O (spiritual) comrade! Fetch the (gnostic) wine (for me), for one who has come to know of the
(spiritual) pillage and ruin wrought by the autumnal wind (of this perishable, vicissitudinous
world) never at the (specious) rose of the garden of this world.

Hafiz, who has cast (shed and egested) this (spiritual) pearl that was built in (spiritual)
disposition, knew it· to be an effect of the (spiritual) instruction of Asif the Second (Asif, the
minister of Solomon; here it refers to the second-in-command of the master, i.e. his disciple-in--
chief).

Lyric 99 ( Verses)
1-5. The dawn of good luck is the emergence of his (beloved master's) radiant countenance (from
gnostic seclusion), the darkness of nightfall is the mark of the darkness emanating from his seclue
sion. The sun in splendour fetches the morsel (of light) to Us from his {beloved master's)
splendorous dining-table (on which are laid spiritual viands); the new moon is curved (bended)
for the sake or serviilg him (our beloved master), Shamed by his (i.e. the master's) gorgeous and
auspicious feet, the cypress tree (spiritual stalwart) is pressed down into the mud; the scar of
anemone (la/a or deep devout) is wrought by the grief of his separation from him (the master). In
the orchard (the congregation) the (gorgeous) colour and fragrance of the rose (the gnostic
seeker) is derived from his (master's radiant, splendorous sweet-smelling) visage; the plaintive
(doleful) warbling of the bulbul is induced by its love for him (i.e. for the· perfect master who is
like a rose). The ten-tongued hyacinth in the garden (i.e. the expansive, loquacious seeker, fond
of bragging about his spiritual attainments) has struck dumb, reddened (flushed with
embarrassment) at the sight of his (the master's) natural artistry (his spiritual ability, pursuit and
skill).
6-9: Although ("fakir" has four letters with ferepresenting fiqah or fasting; qaaf, qanaat or
contentment; ye; yaad-i~Ilahi or remembrance of God; and re, riyazat or penance). Fuqr is
another name for toil and tears (caused by love for "the living master), the· treasury of (spiritual)
honour lies hidden in the corner of its seclusion. (O sufferer from the pangs of' love for the
beloved master!) Forthe sake of fetching medicine, do not go towards the (worldly and false)
physician; the instant cure lies in the beloved master's healing touch (his spiritually inspired
looks). On the path of gnosis, whatever befalls the seeker (the spiritual way farer) is by the
master's (spiritual) resolution (iradat). The red-legged partridge (enamoured of the moon or
qamar), the bulbul and Hafiz are not the only ones reciting his (the master's) glory, but all (the
creatures in the cosmos) are one in eulogizing him (for his spiritual majesty, beauy and radiance).
Lyric 100 (10 Verses)
1.5. O crafty abstinent claiming to have holy constitution (disposition)! Don't find fault with the

74
(spiritually) ecstatic (gnostics), for they (the angels, munkir and nakeer) would not put the faults
of others in your account (i.e. you do whatever you will and let them do what they like! How
does their gnostic activity adversely affect you?)

I may be good (virtuous) or bad (vicious), you better go and look after yourself; for at long last,
everyone will reap What he has sown. (In this whole cosrnos).

All the people (good, bad or indifferent) are the seekers of their beloved (whatever their beloved
may be-name, fame, riches, rank, wine and women, gnosis, charlatanry, perfect living master,
divinity, virtue or ehsan et al.), irrespective of whether they are (worldly-)wise or spiritually inebriated·
and are free to choose their beloved, everywhere there is the abode of love (khaana-i-Ishq),whether
it is a mosque or a temple.

As for me, I have laid my head on the dust of the (gnostic) tavern in acquiescence (to my beloved
master); if the disputant does not understand it, then ask him to get lost and beat his head against
a stone.

(O ultracrepidarian!) Don't make me despair of my end by reminding me of the pre-eternal, for

What do you know who is beautiful and who is ugly behind the veil (which you don't have the
ability and skill to lift).

6-10. It is not I alone who has fallen from the abode of self-restraint (about which you lecture to
me); even my father (Adam) had let the paradise go out of his hands in exchange for tasting the
Forbidden Fruit (allusion to the Fall of Adam, for which see the Koran, VII, 19-27).

O Khwaja (the pretending abstinent, arrogant of his abstinence)! Don't place reliance on your
practice (based on arrogance and ego), for how do you know what the divine Artist (God) wrote
down (decreed) in your name on the day of Creation?

If all your nature is that (doltish), what a wonderfully holy nature you have indeed! If your make-
up (the manner of arrangement of the parts or qualities) is all this rubbish, what a hallowed
(pauline) makeup you carry!

The Garden of Eden (of which you fondly talk) is indeed spiritually fine and delicate (but what
has that to do with your dim-witted, scatter-brained disposition?You must deem it your rare good
fortune that you are under the shadow of the (tremulous) willow tree (the charlatan, the pseudo-
saint), working as a hewer of wood and drawer of water at the edges of the agricultural farm (of
that pharisaical, fake saint).

O Hafiz! If on the day of your death, you happen to bring the (gnostic) cup (i.e. the hand of your
perfect master) into your hand, from the (beloved master's) tavern (company), they (the angels)
would straightaway carry you to paradise.

Lyric 101 (9 Verses)

1.5. Since the day, the suffering caused by my love for him has taken hold of my heart, my head, like
the dishevelled lock of hairs (of my master) has been caught up by distraction (i.e. has become

75
distracted).

His fiery (spiritually invigorating) lips are a veritable Water of Life (i.e. the words that fall from his lips
are spiritually stimulating like the Water of Life); and (surprising though) from that water, fire (of
gnosis) has been set aflame in us.

A whole life is past since huma (lucky bird) of my steadfastness, heart and soul took to the mesh of
love for that lofty statured (beloved master).

I have fallen head over heels in love with his lofty· (spiritual) ·height; this because, the calling of lovers
has risen very high in rank and eminence (before God).

(But, then, I cannot understand that) when we survive only under the shadow of his grace and favour,
why, after all, has he folded up his shadow from us (i.e. closed the wings of his protection against
us).

6-9. Today, the morning zephyr (my morning meditation) has the scent of ambergris; perhaps my
beloved (master) has made it to the forest (of my gnostic contemplation).

The remedy for pangs of love is naught save the (gnostic) wine; the lover (the -ardent disciple of
the perfect master) has, for this reason taken hold of the vintage wine (of gnosis).

The pearls of tears from the oceans of my two eyes have caught (arrested) the entire world (of ardent
seekers) in love-knot (loo' loo) and love-nest (la la where there is nothing save love, for there is love,
lover and beloved are all rolled into one, without any other).

O cypress (my spiritually lofty master), fragrant with the scent of catalonian jasmine! By virtue of
eulogising the (spiritual) traits of your stature, the story of Hafiz has attained to an exalted rank.

Lyric 102 (7 Verses)

1-7. Now that the palm of the rose (the perfect master)is holding the chalice of the· pure vintage
wine (i.e. now that the perfect master is holding forth on pure gnostic subtleties), by a thousand
tongues, the bulbul (the disciple-in-chief') iswarbling on his (spiritual) traits.

Read and recite his (the master's) "collection of (gnostic)verses and turn your face towards forest
(seclusion where those verses must be studied and reflected on); where is· the time now for formal
schooling (instruction), discussion and hair-splitting (kashf-o-kashaaf).

Yesterday, the school jurist, lecturing on the sharia, was himself drunk and was busy
squandering the trust money, and yet .he pronounced the ecclesiastical verdict (fatwa) declaring
drinking of wine as unlawful, which, in any case, is better than misappropriating the trust
property.

(O dishonest jurist!) You are not entitled to adjudicate on what is filthy and what is fair; you
better hold your tongue, for whatever my cupbearer (beloved master) has showered (has
pronounced), it is truly his grace and favour.

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(O seeker!) Cut yourself off from the vulgar and take to your (gnostic) work as if it is unqa
(something rare and lucky), for the ring (circle) of the secluded (dervishes) extends from one end
of the universe to the other (from Qaf to Qaf).

The difference between the cockalorum (the vainglorious braggarts) and those engrossed in their
own (gnostic) pursuits is the difference between those engaged in knitting brocade (the sensual;
lascivious pleasure) and those engrossed in stitching mattresses for use by the dervishes).

O Hafiz! Hush, and keep the recondite points which are like red (24 carat) gold, well- guarded,
for the gold-dealer of the city (the worldling) is a gilder (fraudulent who gilds copper to make it
appear as gold, i.e. keep your gnostic secrets from the charlatans).

Lyric 103 (15 Verses)

1-5. There is none in this (fleshly world who is not entangled in this chain of duality (pairs of
opposites, and "mine" and "thine"); there is no passageway where explosive mines are not laid
below the surface.

(O master!) your countenance is most probably the mirror reflecting the grace of the exalted
Lord; I am certain, it is that divine mirror, and I say this without any fear and favour.

The (fraudulent) abstinent charges me to repent of your (radiant) face (i.e. asks me to set my face
against you)! Watch all his duplicity, how can he face up to God, of whom he is not ashamed,
and how can he face (endure) the radiance of your face?

The narcissus (daffodil or- the self-styled spiritualist given to narcissism) dares to desire the style
of your looks (eye)! What an impudent eye (like flower) it is! The miserable wretch is unaware of
your mystique and his eye has no sense of shame.

For the sake of the Lord, O master! don't arrange your hair locks (let the blowing wind keep on
distracting them), for there is no night when we don't have a hundred quarrels with the wind [that
keeps on 'teasing your Jocks of hair (i.e. your divine mysteries) and so leave that job to us]. ·

6-10. O heart-illuminating candle (i.e. O master)! Come back, or without your (radiant) face,
there is not even a trace (streak) of light in the assembly (congregation) of your disciples.

O morning candle! Weep at your and my state (for you can afford to weep; I can't, for I am
engaged in burning), for the hidden burning which I have, you don't have.

Yesterday, when he (my (beloved master) was about to leave, I said to him: "O sweetheart!
Fulfil your promise and stick to your pledge (of not leaving me)" He replied: “O khwaja! You
are in error. In this cycle of time, there is no fidelity anywhere including you (and so I am
departing, notwithstanding knowledge)".

O sweetheart! To entertain and look after the poor strangers (cut off from their abode in Hoot) is
the cause of good mown; it appears to me that in your city this principle (of etiquette) not

77
observed.

(O master!) When your eye ravishes the heart of the secluded ones, if we trail behind you, it is not
our fault (it is, on the contrary, the fault of your own eye which does not spare our heart and
kidnaps it).

11- 15.

If my master (murshid) has become the pir (master) of the Magians (gnostics), what difference has
it made (to me)? (There must be some mystery about it which is beyond my comprehension); for
there is no head which is without some divine (inscrutable) mystery.

The sages (bazurgaan) know it very well that for the white dwarf (Suha) Star; allusion to
pettifogging and petulant spiritual retender) to brag before the radiant sun (a perfect saint), "I am
he fountain of (divine) light", is inapt.

O reader! If the lover (of a perfect master) does not accept (literally; eat) the slings and arrows of
calumny, how can he help it and what else shall he do? (for that is his fate and dispensation); no
stout-hearted (dilawar) has the coat of mail against the arrow of divine dispensation (qaza).

(O beloved master!) Whether it be the temple of the abstinent or the secluded corner of the
obeisant (aabid), save your eyebrows, there is no other niche of prayer (mehrab), the arch in the
middle of which is the nukta-sveda, the portal to the abode of the Lord).

(O the fraudulent, vindictive ascetic!) You are clawing into the heart of Hafiz (who is the
moving Koran of God). It seems that you don't care even about the honour of God's Koran (that
came straight from God)!

Lyric 104 (7 Verses)

l- 7. Now, that the pleasant celestial breeze is blowing fromthe fragrant garden (i.e.from my
master's congregation), I am there, Ialong with refreshing (gnostic) wine and my beloved with houri-
like make-up (constitution).

Why should a beggar (fakir) not preen about his sultanate (exalted spiritual rank), when his tent is the shade
of (spiritual) nimbus (the perfect master raining gnostic Water of Life on the gnostic seekers) and the
(gnostic) assembly (perfect. master's congregation) is the yard of his (gnostic) farm ?

The garden (master's congregation is unfolding the (pleasing) face of the Urdi Bahisht (the second
month of theIranians, equivalent to June or Jeth, the summer month, during which roses bloom)
and my beloved is near at hand; no inte1Iigent person would ever let go the cash (in hand, i.e. the
spiritual pleasure immediately available from the beloved master, in expectation of something held on
credit, i.e. the paradise, promised by the doltish preachers).

(O earnest gnostic seeker!) Erect the mansion of your (loving) heart with (gnostic) wine, for this filthy,
despicable, fleshly world of mind and body (manas and maya) is knitting the plot (cooking up the
plan]of fabricating bricks out of our clay (i.e. use us as food for theirlust), O spiritual comrade!

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Don't look for fidelity from the foe (of gnosis), for, if you lighten the candle of your gnostic corner with the
lamp of idol-temple (the worshippers of forms), it would not emit (spiritual) luminance. (Hence keep off
the worshippers of forms; for the sake of your gnostic pursuits).

(O bragging abstinent!) Don't malign me for the blackness of my charter of deeds (my charter of alleged
black deeds), for who knows what divine dispensation has written in. (allotted to) one's fate.

(O seeker!) Don't withdraw your feet from the funeral procession of Hafiz, for albeit he is soaked in
sin, he is going straight to heaven!

Lyric 105 (11 verses)

1-6. The rose (my beloved master) is in my bosom, the (gnostic) wine cup) is in my palm (i.e. the Great
Name, as revealed by my master, is m my hand as my talisman) and my beloved (i.e. maa’shaoqai is in
accord with my (spiritual) desire; on such (an auspicious) day; even the sultan of this (phenomenal)
world is my slave.

Tell everyone not to fetch a lighted candle in this (gnostic) assembly (perfect master's congregation), for
tonight, in our assembly, we have the countenance of our beloved (master) shining as the full moon.

In our faith (religion), (gnostic) wine is lawful but, O cypress-like master with rose-like body,
without the sight of yourface, everything is unlawful!

My ears are totally pricked up to the sound of the flute (reed or bansuri, the "unstruck melody" of
the rotating Cave or Hootal Hoot, Bhanwar Gupha) and violin (the Saut-Sarmadi one hears in Sunn
or Hahoot); and my gaze is completely fastenedon his (my perfect master's) ruby-like lips (the
colour of Tikrutior Musallasi or Lahoot) and on the circling rounds of (gnostic) cup (the ceaseless
gnostic inspiration from my perfect master).

(O seeker!) Don't sprinkle attar (perfume) in our assembly (congregation), or Omaster, for the
sake of refreshing our soul, at every moment, our nose is smelling the sweet fragrance of your
locks of hair!

Letone speak to me never of the syrup and candy, for my sole concern is your sweet lips (i.e. your
sweet discourses), O beloved master!

7-11. In as much as the treasure of pangs of my love for you installed in the ruins of my heart, the
corner of the (gnostic) taverns(the congregations of your gnostic lovers) has become my permanent
destination.

O pedantic abstinent! What foolish tale of disgrace are you indulging in? My name and fame
flows frominfamy. And what are you enquiring of men about my (world) name arid fame?

My disgrace is indeed the offshoot of my worldly renown (i.e. it is all a case of reverse shoeing.
The worldings chase name and fame in the world; in my view, they are chasing shadows. I am
pursuing gnosis and earn calumny onthis account; is (worldly) disgrace Iregard as my real

79
(spiritual) renown.

(And O slanderer! look at it from another point of view; according to you), we are tipplers,
scatter-brained (sar gashtah), intoxicated rind) and oglers (indulging in the game of flirtatious
and lewd looks). Now tell us, who in this city there is, who is unlike us (in respect of I these charges
you level against us)?

Don't speak of my faults to theController of Public Morals, for he too, like us, is tied up with
(engrossed in) the quest of permanent, everlasting pleasure.

O Hafiz! Don't sit, even for a moment without the (gnostic) wine and the lovely sweetheart (the
perfect master, referred to as maa’shooqa), for this, the age of the rose, the catalonian jasmine
(perfect master) and Id, following the fasting (i.e. it is the age of the perfect master who has
manifested after a long period of absence or interregnum).

Lyric 106 (7 Verses)

1-7. O master! If the hand of your locks (of hair) lapsed into error it lapsed (so what if it
devastated me by its beauty and splendour?); if by your faithless mole an inequity was visited
upon us, it happened (so what?).

If the lightning of {our) craze (ishq), burnt out the (worldly) granary of a wearer, of a. khirqa made
of pashmina (i.e. the Sufi who paraded his Sufism); it burnt out; so what? If on a destitute (lover),
cruelty, was visited by a triumphant king (i.e. a perfect master), it happened: what of that?

If some heart (i.e. the heart of a lover) was weighed down by the coyness of a heart-ravisher (master)
it happened; if some incident came to pass between the lover's spirit and the sweetheart, it occurred.

O beloved master! In the way (to gnosis, tariqat), the spirit (khatir) is never grieved. So offer to
me your gnostic wine; whatever bitterness (tortuousness or stain of spite) you perceive in us, you
have cleansed it and it went away (disappeared); and so it vanished.

O my heart! For the love-play (islzqbaazi), steadfast perseverance (tahammal) is a must; if there
was a plague of hindrance obstructing the love-play, it was there (but it is no more there, for you
have cleansed it lock, stock and barrel); if there was a flaw so be it..

The feelings of weariness and exhaustion and ill-feeling (malaalathaa) come up on account of the
fault-finders; but when everything is sorted out in the company of comrades (sharing the same
camara or spiritual object), the (malicious) tale ends and every form of ill-feeling vanishes for
good.

O seekers Tell the (self-appointed) abstinents, not to find fault with Hafiz for having left the convent
(monastery or khanqah) for how can you (O abstinent) fetter the feet of those who have been
emancipated (by the perfect master)?If such a one goes away to any (other) place, he has gone; so
what?

Lyric 107 (8 Verses)

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1-4. The ruby-like lip of the beloved (master) is satiated and yet thirsty of the blood (of his
lovers); for the sake of watching it (the sight of my bloodshedding), to give away my life· is my job
(to which I am appointed by him); ·He (my beloved master) must really be ashamed of his black
(ravishing) eyes' and' long lashes, for he (my beloved master) witnessed the sight of ravishing my
heart, and he is yet nagging (scolding) me, (denying) his ravishing act and making me responsible
for his act of ravishing my heart; too bad, indeed!). O cameleer! Don't carry the baggage (of my
sins) to that door (the needle of the eye about which the Koran says: "The impious shall find the
gates of heaven shut; nor shall he enter till a camel shall pass through the eye of a needle) on
top of that mountain. (the nukta-i-sveda, which is the eye of the needle) there is the royal highway
which leads to the destination of my heart-ravisher (my beloved master). I am a thrall of my good luck that
in this era of famine of fidelity, my craze for that love-soaked pert and inebriated beloved (master) is my
buyer (i.e. has owned me, accepted me as his own).

5-8. The casket of rose-attar (scent) and the case meant to sprinkle ambergris is only a very small
specimen of the favour of the excellent fragrance of my attar-dealer (i.e. my beloved master). O gardener
(the master of gnostic congregation)!Don't drive me away like the· breeze sweeping· off the straws from
your portal, for the sheen of your rose-garden (congregation) is from my tears flowing from my eyes, turned
red (lively and impassioned) as the pomegranate flowers. His narcissus-like eye (i.e. my master's eye)
which is the physician of my sickly heart, has prescribed (for my ailment) the sherbet of candy androse-
water from the lips of my beloved master (and so Imust take it). That one who has taught me to speak of
recondite points through my lyrics is that beloved (master) of mine who is a mellifluous talker and a
speaker (discourser) of rare quality.

Lyric 108 (7 Verses)

1-7. O conventionalist! Don't expect of me, who is beside himself (mast), the right kind of obeisance and
pledge and vow, for, since the day of alast (the primeval covenant, for which refer to the Koran, VII,
172), I am renowned and reputed in (gnostic) carousal merrydrinking spree). Since the time Itook ablution
from the fountain of passion of love, Irecited the four litanies (takbeer) of renouncing everything (save
love: I will think of nothing save my belovedmaster; I will speak of nothing save of him; I will sec and
praisenothing save him; I will not hear of anything and will not rely on anything save my beloved master).
O my spiritual comrade! Give me (the gnostic) wine so that I may reveal to you the mystery of the divine
decree, as to the face of which I have become the lover and the fragrance of which has inebriated me. At
this station of love, even the back of the mountain falls short of the back of an ant i.e. an earnest, ardent
lover can ascend to the top of the mountain (the highest abode of God) as lightly and easily as an ant climbs
up]. O worshipper of (gnostic) wine, don't despair of the master's door of compassion (nil desperandum
Teucro duce et auspice Teucro: "There is naught to be despaired of when we are under Teucer's
leadership and auspices; Horace, Carmen, 1, vii, 27. That is when we are led by our beloved perfect
master and are living under his auspices, never give in to despair). O master! Would that I
sacrifice my life on your (beauteous) mouth, for in the garden of sight (i.e. in the realm which can
be seen by the human eye), the embellisher of this garden of the (phenomenal, visible) world has
not created a bud (mouth) comelier than this. Under this azure canopy nobody has ever sat in
peace and happiness save that intoxicating daffodil-like eye of yours; may the evil ·eye remain
averted from it. By the exalted rank of your Jove, Hafiz has received the prize of Solomonianism
[(Cf. Mathnawi Rund, Vol. IV, Verses 1222-27, pp. 80-81); that is to say, by his union with you, he
has nothing in his hands, save the wind (which flew the throne of Solomon on its shoulders, i.e.by
his union with you he is bereft of everything save his ardent desire for you, o master)].

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Lyric 109 (8 Verses)
1-4. Hail you, O messenger of lovers? Deliver the message of the beloved (master) so that by a
strong urge (for union with him), I may lay down my life on his name (the Great Name that he
revealed to his lovers).

In my longing for the almond and candy of the beloved master (i.e. for the spiritual pabulum
provided by his lips and almond-like eyes), the parrot-like disposition of mine is ecstatic and
infatuated with him in the wise of a bulbul in the cage (of love forhis rose, the beloved master).

His lock of hair is the trap and his beauty spot is the bait (grain) of that trap, and tempted by that
bait, I have fallen into the trap of my beloved (master, i.e. by his spiritual beauty and attraction
and his enrapturing promise of redemption I have become my beloved master's 'captive).

Not until the morning of the doomsday, can anyone, who like me quaffed a draught from the
(gnostic) cup of the beloved (Lord) in the pre-eternal, lift his head out of stupor (state of
unconsciousness and ecstasy).

5-8. In order to detail my inner state, I have written a letter (to my beloved master); but to
importune (for union) beyond this (act of writing out a letter to him) would become a headache
for the beloved (master).

(The whole tragedy is that) my inclination is towards union (with him) while his intention
istowards separation; as it is. Ihave abandoned my desire (for union), so that his intention may
come good.

Ifit comes to my hand, I wouldapply the dust of the path which has been hallowed by the feet of
my beloved (master) my eyes in the wise of blue vitriol (tutiya).

O Hafiz! Continue to be consumed in the fire of (the) grief and pangs (of love) and don't contrive
any remedy, for the incurable pain caused by the separation from the beloved master can find· no
remedy at all (save union with him).

Lyric 110 (9 Verses)

1-5. I am that one whosc convent (monastery or klanqah) is a corner of the (beloved master's) tavern
(congregation); offer solicitations to my beloved master (pir-i-mughan) for my morning stipend
Divine impulse he imparts to me at dawn). If I do not possess the peppy (full of spiritual warmth
and vitality, bouncy and energetic) melody (aut-i-Sarmadi), violin and. the morning (gnostic)
wine (pre-dawn Sultan-al-Azkar), what do I care? My inarticulate recitation of the Great Name in
which I remain engaged in the small hours, is my apology (for not having the violin and the wine
as aforesaid). I thank the almighty Lord who has made me independent of and unconcerned with
the (worldly) kings and beggars (who come for collecting poor-due); anyone who is the beggar of
the dust of the door of my beloved master), he alone is my king. What I mean by the terms
‘mosque" and "tavern", is indeed my union (with you, O my beloved master)! Save this (fancy),
I have no other thought, and of this, God is my witness. For me, your being a destitute, O
master, is far better than raving a sultanate; this because the humiliation that your inequity and

82
cruelty inflicts on me, is my rank and regality (izz~o-jah.)

6-9. It's only the sword-and sabre of my death which can fold up and eradicate my tent (khema
barkunam, that Ipitched in your sanctuary, O master) ; otherwise to run away from the exalted
portal of my beloved master) is not my way and wont (rasm-o-rah), Since the moment, Ihave put
down (landed) my face at his (i.e. my master's) door-sill, the loftiness of the bolster (masnad) of
the splendorous sun has become the place of my pillow (my prop and repose). What status can
the crown of the kingdom of Khusroe (a mighty Iranian King) have, when the dust of your street,
O master, is the crest and plume of my crown (cap)? O Hafiz ! Even though I (like the
necessitatrians) hold that transgression was not the outcome of my free will (ikhtiyaar), you better
take to the path of reverence (unto the Lord), and admit that all the transgressions were your own
(as did Adam who said: “Our Lord! We have wronged ourselves…’’(the Koran VII; 22-23)

LYRIC I l l (7 VERSES)
1-7. My (beauteous) moon (i.e. beloved master) left this city only this week, but my (expectant)
eye is weary (of awaiting his return) as if a whole year has passed! O seeker! What do you know
or the plight of separation which is in dire, danger and difficult.

On account of the purity and smoothness of his cheeks, the pupil of my eye saw its own
reflection in his (the master's) face, and from (hat reflection it imagined that there was a black
mole (on his face)!
O you, my master, who is renowned in this whole city (world) for your (spiritual) generosity and
grace! It is really amazing that you are so slow and indifferent in responding to the needs of the
poor (i.e. your poor lovers).
From his candy-like lips, even now, drops of milk trickle (i.e. he looks innocent like a child),
even though in his 'game of preening and pluming (sauciness and jauntiness) every (curved) hair
of his eyelashes is a murderer (i.e. anyone who beholds his eyelashes, falls in love with him head
over heels, and becomes stunned as if he is dead; i.e. his beauty is killing).
After having beheld your (radiant, peerless) visage, 1 am left in no doubt about the existence of
an indivisible (inalienable, immutable and indestructible) essence (i.e. the peerless God, the
omnipotent, the omniscient, the Supreme Creator, the Causeless Cause, the forgiving, merciful
and the compassionate, the fountainhead of all being and non-being) of whichyour mouth, in the
matter of this recondite point, is the most effective argument and proof.
People have given me the glad tidings that you will (O master) pass by our side! Don't change
this noble resolution (niyat) for this is a good omen (for our spiritual fortune).
By what contrivance (ingenious device) can the broken-hearted Hafiz, whose body, by the moan
and groan caused by your separation, has become etiolated and fragile like the yarn of jute, drag
the mountainous burden of your separation and pull through the crisis?

LYRIC 112 (12 VERSES)

1-6. (Besotted) by your fancy, O Master, what do I care now about the wine, O comrade? Tell
the pitcher (the one that claims to be a gnostic but is like an empty pitcher) to get off and to take
to its way, for our tavern (assembly of true gnostics) is fallen into a state of ruin (in the absence
of our beloved Mastcr).

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Even if it is celestialwine that that pitcher has, O comrade, shed it (cast if off), for without the
beloved (master), whosoever gives me a deliciously sweet sherbet is an unmitigated torment
(azaab).

Alas, my beloved heart-ravisher (dilbar) has gone away, and now, in my weeping (moist) eyes,
the script or the image of his figure (that) is like writing on a sheet of water (naqsh-bar-aab) my
eye (i.e. perception)!

Stir your stumps (become spiritually alert and active), for you cannot rest in peace amid the flood
(or tears) flowing from you every instant in the bed chamber.

(O Hafiz!) Your lovely, comely sweetheart- mashooq (i.e. master) is passing in front of you in
full public view but she has put on a veil because the strangers (rivals) are also beholding (that
beauty).

O beloved master! Since the rose has beheld the rapturous sight of perspiration (spiritual pep) on
your colourful (rosy) face, its grief-stricken heart, melting away in the fire of jealousy, is
submerged in rose-water [i.e. at the sight of your perspiring (peppy) Countenance, the rose, out
of envy, has withered away J.

7 -12. By the refulgence of your countenance, in the assembly of my heart (i.e. in my heart and
soul), a hundred candles (flames of gnostic light) have illumined, and yet the wonder of it is that
there are a hundred sorts of curtains (veils) fallen on your visage (i.e. people cannot perceive
your inner spiritual radiance covered by phenomenal screens).

The door (the portal to the Lord, nukta-e-sveda) and the expanse beyond (it) are verdant (inviting
and lively, calling us), O comrade, so that we should not withdraw our hand (our concentration
and attention) from the bank of that (celestial) water (back into the vortex of this vicissitudinous
world), for this whole world is a mirage (appearing to us as limpid water but is really a dry
expanse or desolation).

O crafty sermonizer! Don't look for room for your sermons in the cornice of my brain, for this
cabin (hujra) is resonant with the sounds of violin and rubab (the Saut-i-Sarmadi, the gnostic
hears in the region of Hahoot or Sunn).

O gnostic! What a (glorious) way is your way before which by virtue of its (spiritual) greatness
and distinction, the whole compass of the traversing river of firmament (celestial equator)
appears like a froth (hubaab), O heart-elevating candle (belovcd!)

Without your heart-embellishing countenance, my heart dances about like kebab in the fire of
separation from you!

If Hafiz is a lover, ecstatic and an ogler, so what, O counsellor? A great many oddities are a
necessary concomitant of youth (i.e. youthful rashness skips like a hare over the meshes of good
counsel. Youth is a continual intoxication; it is the fever of reason. Youth of love is the gay and

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pleasant spring of life, when joy is stirring in the dancing blood, and divinity calls the lover with
a thousand melodies to share His generous banquet of gnosis).

LYRIC 113 (5 VERSES)I-5. In the ardour or my love you, O master, I just don't bother about
sleeping, for to be without the image of your heart captivating countenance, is not spiritually
meritorious (sawaab). In the vista (daur) of your intoxicating eye, I have not seen anyone in his
wits; which is that eye, which, by the phantasy of your eye, is hot torpid (motionless, as though
somnolent) ? You may notice anyone (of your lovers) and you will see him afflicted by some
sort of grief (caused by his love for you); I have not seen anyone who is not completely ruined
by the fire of your love, O lovely master! (But the wonder of wonders is that) he who has been
killed at the hands of his ardent passion for you, in that exalted court (of the almighty Lord), he
is not subjected to any question or obliged to answer any question (i.e. the martyr stands
redeemed by that glorious, compassionate Lord). Hafiz, O (gnostic) striver, like gold; fell into
the gold. smith's crucible (for melting and purifying gold) and was refurbished (i.e. he was
subjected to the process of burnishing, i.e. garhat by his beloved perfect master, to round off his
angularities and to burnish him), for, none can become a (real) lover (of God and His saints) who
has not been heated (melted, processed, moulded and polished) like gold (by his beloved master
and his instruments). [These verses remind one of the following verses :
"Aashiqaanrashashnishaanund ai pisar ; ahsard-o-rangzard-o chashm tar ; gar bepursee seh
nishaan ra aan kudaam, kum khardan-o-kum-guftan-o-khuftan haraam ___the lovers have
six hallmarks : cold sigh (chilling to the spirit or depressing), pallid colour and wet (tearful) eye.
If you ask what the other three hallmarks are, (these are:) eating little, speaking little and
sleeping forbidden.”
LYRIC 114 (9 VERSES)
1-5. The fragrant wind blowing from your curly locks of hair ever keeps me ecstatic; the
fascination of the magical contact with your eye every moment ruins me (destroys my carnal
self).
O Lord! How much of patient expectation would it require before I have tryst with that night (of
union with my beloved master) when in the niche (mihrab) of your (the master's) eyebrows, I
would illumine the candle of my eyes (i.e. when after crossing through the nukta-i-sveda, I
would have a glimpse of the luminous visage, i.e. the inner form of my beloved master).
I hold the black tablet of the pupil of my eyes very dear (to my heart) so that the reflection
(image) of your beauty spot (mole) may serve as the prescription for my cure (for pangs of
separation from you).
O lovely master! If you wish this whole Cosmos to be decorated and embellished forever, direct
the zephyr (your Divine impulse) to lift the veil from your (glorious, divine) visage for a
moment, (so that if these worldlings could have just a glimpse of the real you, without the
corporeal veil you have put on, they would attain to undying, imperishable, eternal beauty and
spiritual embellishment by becoming merged unto the Lord and then subsisting in Him, fana and
baqa).
O divine master! If you wish to lift and annul-the custom of death (which is central to the life of
everyone, everything) in this (perishable) world, then jerk your locks so that they may shed and
shower from your hair thousands upon thousands of lives.
6-9. O wondrous master I and the zephyr are both rendered miserable (miskeen) and overwrought
(sargardaan, distracted) and unsuccessful (literally, behaasil or resultless, in our respective

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spheres)—l am ecstatic by the spell (afsoon) of your eye, and he, the zephyr, is inebriated by the
fragrance of your hair.
By the favour of the zephyr (Divine impulse), I am deeply obliged to the fragrance of my
beloved (master), for otherwise how could that fragrance of yours reach here early in the
morning from your side?
Earlier, every time I used to find the black pupils of my eyes soaked in the blood (of tears)
flowing from my heart (and was scared of them), but now because they remind me of the beauty
spot (black mole) on your face, I hold them very dear (to my heart).

O faith of Hafiz! Bravo for your spiritual receptivity (himmat), for Hafiz has passed by both this
(fleshly) world (duniya) and uqba (paradise, towards the maula, and beyond), for in his eyes, O
lovely master, naught save the dust of your street can be contained!

LYRIC 115 (9 VERSES)

1-5.The pupil of my eye, O beloved master, is not the seer of naught save your (beauteous and
majestic) countenance; my distracted and overwrought heart cannot be a reciter of any name save
the one you have revealed.

My tears which are not clean and holy even for a while because they are soaked in the blood of
my wounded heart, strangely though, tie up the cords around the hallowed: enclosure wherein to
circumambulate around you, O master!

If the fowl of the lote tree in the utmost boundary (sadd-i-rah) is not turning around in your
quest, may it remain entangled in the cage (of Satan) like a beastly bird of prey.

O tricksy preacher! If the poor lover has sacrificed his gilded heart, don’t blame and revile him,
for he has no access to (control over) the current cash (the charlatans and fake masters who are
currently so popular, who alone could keep his gilded, counterfeit, deceptive heart as a prized
possession).

O master! Everyone whose faith in your quest (talab) is not deficient and faulty, his hand would
reach his lofty cypress (Godhead, the perfect living master being God’s vice-regent in the
cosmos).
6-9.

Before you, O master, I cannot even strike the note about the vivification by Jesus, for his breath
(spiritual capacity) did not have the power to lift the soul as your breath (Divine impulse in you)
has.

How can anyone accuse me of not patiently enduring the scars on my heart (caused by my love
for you and separation from you), when, burning in the fire of your love, I cannot even utter
“ah”?

On the day of Creation (roz-i-awwal), when I had had a glimpse of the edge of your lock of hair,
I had declared: The overwhelming capacity of this (spiritual) chain (linkage or silsila) is endless
(i.e. it is straight from the almighty Lord who is nameless or la-makaan).

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The fancy of getting absorbed in (tied up with) you is not confined to Hafiz alone; who is there
(in the whole cosmos) that is not haunted by the fancy of getting, absorbed unto you, O my
beloved master?

LYRIC 116 (7 VERSES)

147. It is long since the fire of my craze for him has been raging in my soul, and on top of it, see
that my ardent desire (for my beloved master, instead of quitting that desolate heart) is still
entrenched in my ruined heart.

O comrade! The pupils of the eyes are soaked in the blood of my liver because the fount (source
or origin) of his radiant sun-like countenance is there in my lamenting breast.

The Water of Life (elixir) is a tiny drop from his candy like lips; the disc of the splendorous sun
is only a reflection of the countenance of that radiant moon (i.e. my beloved master).

Since I heard of the Text, “I have breathed into him (Adam) my spirit” (the Koran, XV 29), 1 am
convinced of its essence (meaning) that we are from Him and He (the living master) is ours.

Not every heart is aware of the mysteries of the invisible; the knower (confidant) of this
meaningful heavenly mystery is only my sweetheart, my beloved master who has reverted it to
me).

O pedantic sermonizer! "How long will you dilate upon the sharia of the faith ? Hold your
tongue." (for you don’t know a thing about my love affair with the beloved master); in both the
worlds my faith (religion) is the company of my sweetheart (my perfect master).

O Hafiz! Remain, till the last day, in thanksgiving (to God) who has bestowed upon me this
rarity (our beloved master) who has been the drug and cure of my pain, since the day of Creation.

LYRIC 117 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O my Emir (my lord and master)! What a delightful gait you have, so much so that your
whole being, from head to feet, I am dying to see (i.e. I am eager and desperate to see your gait).
O my Turk (master)! Your sauntering is so pleasing that I am dying to see your stature.

You had said to me, “When are you going to die (to your flesh) before my eyes?" Wherefore this
haste? But what an agreeable demand you make, to hear which I am dying!

I am a separated lover (victim of separation from his beloved), in a state of delirium tremens
(makhmoor); where is the idol (of my heart, my cynosure), my cupbearer (i.e. my beloved
master) who would give me more and yet more of gnostic wine that would efface my carnal
self)? Ask him to stroll, for I am dying to see his majestically attractive height.

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O you (my master)! it is long since I have been sick (i.e. weary with longing, pining) for your
(heart-ravishing) eyelashes; cast a glance on me for I am dying to see your daffodil-like
(sublime) eyes.

(O my sweetheart!) You told me: “My lips, curiously though , are the giver of pain as well as the
bestower of cure for you O Hafiz! (O my beloved!) If one moment I die to experience that pain,
another moment I die to enjoy the cure.

(O beloved master!) You saunter in such a lovely style. May the evil eye remain warded off you!
I have such a longing in my head (heart) that I am dying to see your feet (strolling).

Although there is no room for Hafiz in your boudoir (secluded bedchamber for union) but, O
you, for whom every spot is like a lovely boudoir (for inner union between the ardent disciple
and the perfect beloved master), I am dying to be close to you everywhere.

LYRIC 118 (7 VERSES)

I don’t know in what plight is the bulbul’s heart (wounded) by its ardent passion for the rose (i.e.
what is the state of an ardent disciple separated from his beloved master); but I do see the heart
of the rose-bud (the beloved master) which is blood-soaked by shafts of his own love (for the
ardent disciple). (Here Hafiz says that the beloved master feels the pangs of separation from his
beloved disciple, as much as the latter feels for the former.) It would indeed be surprising if the
steadfastness and patience of the bulbul (the ardent disciple) remain intact, when every moment,
the beauty and comeliness (mysterium fascinans) of the roses (the saints) are on the rise, O
frivolous, witless counsellor ! Behold the gloriously beauteous rose (the perfect master) and see
the mould of his figure and face! What is the fault of the bulbul (the ardent disciple) if he has
become infatuated and lost (his heart to him)? When the rose has come out of the veil (i.e. when
the perfect master has become manifest), if at that time, the miserable bulbul is moaning and
lamenting (out of love) behind the curtain (secretly), that only shows that his heart has gone out
of the curtain (of his restraint, i.e. the master has ravished his disciple’s heart). In this season (of
union between the expectant disciple and the beloved master keen to uplift the souls yearning
for gnosis), if the bulbul (ardent disciple) takes to ecstasy, it is apt ; this becausc (in this season
of gnostic union), on every bough (everywhere in the congrégation of the devout) there are
thousands of cups of (gnostic) wine hanging on all the petals of that rose (the perfect master). O
beloved (master)! In this season, when no fragrance of (spiritual) pleasure is coming from this
(fleshly, filthy, stinking) world, you can very well know what the plight of the (gnostic) lovers
would be. O Hafiz! The hour of (spiritual) joy and pleasure, which you have been seeking heart
and soul, is now at hand; take it as your rare privilege (for living, as you do, during the time
when the perfect master has manifested himself).

LYRIC 119 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Everyone blessed with insight into what is righteous and who set about pursuing the course
of rectitude and sincerity, he made it to the (gnostic) tavern (of the perfect living master) and
attained to the desired goal.

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From the tipplers of dregs (petty sages) to whom (sometimes) the mysteries from the Invisible
get revealed, the (gnostic) wayfarers have picked up the Invisible mysteries which had passed on
to the sensual world (aalam-i-shahadat or shahood, the realm pertaining to the three upper
physical ganglions: solar plexus, throat and the nukta-i-sveda where the soul functions as the
human soul).

O spiritual striver! Come and hear from me about gnosis, for in my courses, from the favour and
grace of Ruh-i-Quds (Gabriel or the Alam-i-Jabroot), point of holiness and auspiciousness has
sprouted.

From the star governing my birth, don’t look for anything save (gnostic) inebriety; this because
this is a development which has come straight from the womb of my birth star.

Today, since the morning, O master, you have come out (of your seclusion) in an altogether
diffferent style; perhaps you have lost sight of the stipend of (gnostic) wine service (homage to
the Lord) that you performed last night (i.e. this morning in gnosis, you are more candid, more
direct, more communicative than you were last night, and that is a very welcome development
for your lovers, O master!).

(O lively master, kind and gracious!) The suffering of this broken-hearted that is me, has crossed
the limits of your kind and anxious enquiries about my wretched plight and it is only by the
marvel of a healer with Jesus-like breath who can try and manage to save me (i.e. O beloved
master, since your gracious enquiry about my plight will not be able to help me, you will have to
breathe your spirit into me in order to vivify me).

I give a thousand thanks (to the Lord) that last night, Hafiz en route the (gnostic) tavern, arrived
into the corner of the recess of homage to and worship (of the beloved master).

LYRIC 120 (8 VERSES)

1-4. O Lord! From whose castle that (refulgent) candle is going to shine up tonight [i.e. who is
his new lover (devotee) whom (my beloved master) is going to oblige tonight] ? He has, of
course, incinerated my soul; now, O comrade, find out whose sweetheart he has now chosen to
be (i.e. how unfair it is for him to burn me out in the fire of his love, and become the sweetheart
of someone else)?

For the present, he has uprooted (ruined lock, stock and barrel) the abode of my heart and my
traditional faith, and leaving me high and dry (stranded); whom is he going to embrace, at long
last and whose comrade he presently is?

Tell me about the (red) wine of his ruby-like lips (the Gnostic drought straight from Lahoot or
Trikuti), which I wish may never be removed from my (spiritually parched) lips, as to whose soul
is it going to relieve and enliven, and with whose goblet is it going to plight its word? For the
sake of the Lord, again to be honoured by the auspicious, hallowed shadow of the exalted
(spiritual) dominium of that (Luminous) candle (i.e. of my beloved master)?

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 5-8. Everyone seeks to cast his magical spell on him (i.e. on my beloved master) but
nobody ever came to know towards whose tale (of life), his delicate (spiritually sensitive and
compassionate) heart is feeling inclined.

O Lord! (If you don’t mind, do kindly tell me:) ‘“Whose peerless pearl and singularly
unique jewel, that king (of mine, i.e. my lovely, majestic master) with face (glorious and radiant)
as that of the moon and with a Venusian forehead (Zohra-jabeen) has become today?

That ruby-like wine (i.e. my rubicund, rosy, beloved master) without quaffing
(experiencing) which have become ruined whose bosom companion he is today, with whom he is
sharing the (food) plate and the cup (drink)? (He whose absence has spiritually ruined, me,
where has he gone, and where shall I find him?)

(And then, O Hafiz, listen to this and tell me if you can beat that) O Hafiz! When I told
him (your beloved master), "Without you, from the crazy, infatuated heart of Hafiz, there is only
cold sigh, cry of ‘ah!”, biting his lips (i.e. stifling his amazement) he just said: “Of whom is it
crazy?” (In other words, what did you say? Repeat! I don’t understand what rubbish you are
talking.)

LYRIC 121 (9 VERSES)

1-5. O Lord! Do create such a cause [for you are the final cause of all causes
(almuntahee, the Koran, LIII, 42-49)] , which may oblige my beloved (master) to return to me
and release me from the claws of humiliation and derision (for, people are sneering and taunting
me, making a fun of my separation from him).

O my spiritual fellow-travelers ! Fetch the dust of the path on which my beloved (master)
has embarked on journey, so that I may apply it as the collyrium of my world-perceiving eyes (so
that the dust may make my eye its lodge).

I cry for justice, for his (my beloved master’s) beauty spot, features, locks of hair, face,
cheeks, and height have barricaded my passage in all the six directions (left and right, back and
forth, up and down, i.e. I have become totally the captive of his beauty and excellence, unable to
move anywhere; I have risen above the dimensions of space and time). (O my cruel, beloved
master!)

Today, that I am in your hands, take pity on me (and take me in your embrace so that I
may have inseparable union with you); tomorrow, when I would have returned to dust (whence I
came), of what avail would be your tears of remorse (at your cruelty, inequity and indifference
towards me)?

O you masquerader, who brags and boasts (swanks and struts) pompously advancing his claim
through lectures and written words to be a lover (i.e. who has never loved, never entered into that
river of fire which is the real name of love) ! With you I have nothing to do; we are not on
talking terms with each other. So be gone; Let go this and hold your peace.

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6-9. O dervish (gnostic seeker)! Don’t moan and lament the cuts inflicted by the sword (of the
beloved masters) (murdering their lovers in cold blood is their calling and custom) and they are
so peculiar a lot that they commit murder of their lovers (in cold blood) and then charge blood-
money from them (instead of paying it)!

O easy-going Sufi! Set aflame your khirqa (the outer symbol of Sufism, and take to real Sufism
which is gnosis, burning in the fire of love, instead of exhibiting and strutting), for presently the
curves of the eyebrows of the cupbearer (i.e..the call from your nukta-i-sveda) are extirpating the
niche (mihrab) of imamate (formal leaders of the faith who, in fact, are vainglorious and fake
from the gnostic point of view).

My (haasha- God forbid)! How am I lamenting (grumbling and complaining about) your cruelty
and inequity (jaur-o-jafa) not realizing that the injustice (bedaad) by the delicate favorites is all
favour and marvel of the benevolence (Karamat)!

(O beloved master!) Hafiz is not cutting short the discussion of the (endless) tale of your
(beauteous) locks of hair, for that chain (silsila) is tied with the cord of the doomsday (it is
endless, eternal, everlasting).

SECTION IV (WITH THEY OR SEY, JEEM, CHEY, AND KHEY AS THE

TERMINALS)
LYRIC 122 (11 VERSES)
1-6. SOS (Save Our Souls)! O the fount of our souls, SOS.! The infidelity (kufr) of your
(black) locks has ravished our traditional faith. O master, SOS! We are licking (biting) our lips
out of vexation of thirst, while in your lips there is Water of Life! SOS, O master, woe betide us!
Where has the sherbet of your glimpses gone? The sourness (unpalatable, harsh taste, bitterness)
caused by our separation from you, O master, is in at the kill (i.e. killing us); succour us ! (On the
one side,) by our weeping, we are submerged in the blood of our tears, and, on the other side,
your ruby-like lips are engrossed in laughter ! Save our Souls, O master! Your saucy ogle
(flirtatious, amorous look), from the ambuscade on the path to death, is darting hidden missiles
(arrows) at us! O lovely master! We are raising hue and cry (hu et cri). The arrows and spears
darting from your (ravishing) eyelashes have thrust into and wounded our spirits! O cruel master!
Save our souls!
7-11. The traversal of the traversing heavenly sphere (the Wheel of Time) has distracted
me like your dishevelled locks of hair. O-master, we cry for succour! We are rolling by turning
over and over on all sides like a ball by the strokes of the bat of the Wheel of Time. Save us, O
master! We raise hu et cri, for we are being kicked in every direction like a ball by the stick of
the sphere. The curl of your hair has fallen round my neck like the noose, and the (tenuous)
thread of my life has become tangled and knotted ! Save us ! Your eyes, which make your lovers
weary with longing, have sickened me (made me faint and feeble), and save your lips, I have no
other remedy ! Save me! O my, beloved master ! Pull Hafiz with the cord of your locks of hair
out of your chin-well (the well or pit of your beauteous chin) into which he has fallen ! O master,
save (that vulnerable Hafiz) !

LYRIC 123 (5 VERSES)

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 1-5. O my spiritual fellow-traveller ! I am once again yearning for that rose (my beloved
master)! Once again, my heart is bewitched and fascinated (by his image) ! Help, O master !
That heart (of mine) which had taken to the secluded corner of tranquility is, at the moment,
dead-set on experiencing pain and tribulation (of love). O master, I cry for succour! That Sufi
(i.e. me) who was quietly quaffing, gulping the (gnostic) wine, draught after draught, is now
stupefied in his street and is a butt of (the spectator’s) ridicule. O Lord, I cry for justice and
equity! That gnostic who was before becoming your lover ever engrossed in thinking about his
fair name and fame and his infamy and bad name, is now on the tenterhooks of disgrace and
craze! And so I cry for relief! From the miserable soul of Hafiz and from those who are head
over heels in love with you, there has gone up the call of SOS, a hue and cry (for your loving
response)! And so I am crying for justice!

LYRIC 124 (7 VERSES) 1-7, (O master!) Our pangs (of love for you) have no remedy (save
your loving attention); our separation (from you) appears to have no end (for you are so
indifferent to our cry for union).

I cry for help. These beauties (the gnostic saints) have ravished our heart and traditional faith,
and are now making a target of our life; against the cruelty of these beauties, I call for succour.

These ravishers of my heart (the gnostic saints) demand our entire life (body, mind and soul) in
exchange for just one kiss (i.e. one Divine’ impulse, one glimpse of their spiritually beauteous
countenance)! Against this unfair and iniquitous demand, I cry for equity (i.e. I would be
delighted to surrender my body, mind and soul to them, for even if only they keep me in union
with them forever and never threaten separation).

These nullifidian hearts of saints who made us fall in love with them, head over heels and made
us infidels (in sharia, love is forbidden and is a mark of infidelity), have drunk our blood (i.e. our
love for the beloved master has made us depleted and pallid; we are condemned to cold sighs,
jaded colour, tearful eyes, no desire to eat, none either to talk, and rendered us sleepless). O
traditional faithfuls (Mussalmans)! What is the way out? I cry for cure and treatment (of this
affliction).

O day of union (roz-i-wasl)! Give relief (i.e. save) the wretched lovers separated from their
beloved master, from the deadly dark night of separation. I implore for mercy.

From these beloved saints, every moment a new anguish, anew pain afflicts my heart and soul; I
cry for justice.

Like (the grief-stricken) Hafiz, my day as well as night have become beside themselves, fallen
into the state of burning and weeping! I seek succour for them.

LYRIC 125 (8 VERSES)

1-4. O comrade ! Tell me if this cold, frozen (gnostic) wine has fire (of love) inside of it
and if this glass (cup, i.e. my heart) has (gnostic) fiery wine (or merely blood); also tell me if in
the middle of my heart the shining fountain of Water of Life is bubbling, looking like lighted
lamp? O seeker! Don’t keep this cup (this heart replete with the wine of gnostic love for the

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beloved master) separated from the palm of libertarians (those who reject necessarianism and
uphold the doctrine of free will with which God has endowed every. human being), for those
with valiant hearts (determined to pursue the gnostic way under the guidance of a perfect living
master) use this Cup as an instrument of their spiritual rapture, and this sets the tone amongst the
gnostics who become accustomed to it. O cupbearer (beloved master)! Give that (gnostic) wine
for the sake of those who have a lively. vigorous and spiritually responsive soul and heart, for
that wine and that soul are connatural. 1 am a lover (par excellence) and ecstatic since birth (the
beginning) of Creation; till the day I enter into the grave, I would not avert my face from this
path (of gnostic love and Spiritual ecstasy, millat-i-ishq).
5-8. O lively master! Lift and remove the veil from your (beauteous) face, for because of
your delicacy (soft, graceful beauty) you are like that freshly blossomed rose (that fresh Divine
impulse) whose fragrance (spiritual impulse) gets the wind of the (dark) night up (whose spiritual
touch makes nescience and ignorance thoroughly alarmed, and in consequence, nervous, over-
anxious and funky). You have come to know of my dire necessity for union with you; now that I
badly need that union, at the time of need, hold the hand of your lovers (for a friend in need is a
friend indeed). The lovers of the lane of the beloved (master) are overjoyed in their state of
destitution (which, in sooth, is a royal state, properly so-called); when is the gaze of such a king
(the lover who is, from the worldly point of view, a beggar and a destitute) ever fastened on the
(worldly) throne and crown? O seeker! Carefully listen to this rather subtle point from Hafiz, for
that would be profitable to you: quaff the (gnostic) wine, do good (to all) for this state is far
better than that of the emirs-the slaves of their need for wealth, which need is never satisfied.
LYRIC 126 (8 VERSES)
1-4. O majestic master! You are fit to exact levy from all the heart-ravishers (from all the
saints who are merely your thrall), for you are like the crown on the heads of all the beauteous
(saints)  of the world (i.e. you are the doyen amongst them all).

Your two (bewitching) eyes have distracted Khota and Khotan (regions Of China, renowned for
their musk) and landed them in a topsyturvy state, for both China (this world) and Hindustan
(the world beyond), have paid tribute (khiraaj) to the curls of your (mysterious) locks of hair.

The eggshell (yellowish-white colour) of your countenance is luminiscent as the face of the
radiant sun; the blackness (zulmat) of your locks (which hide the Water of Life) is darker (more
confounding, more magical, and bewitching) than the darkness of the dark night.

Your lip is Khidr (Zinda Pir, the Perennial Guide of all gnostic seekers; the Keeper of the Elixir
of Life) and your mouth is the Water of Life; your stature is beauteous as Cypress; your back is
as delicate (graceful and fine) as the hair; and your neck is like ivory.
5-8. Whence shall I have the real, true, cure for this affliction (of my love for you), when my
afflicted heart does not receive the treatment from you?

Your beautiful little mouth (so stingy in allowing any of your lovers to kiss it) has conferred
everlastingness (subsistence or baqa) upon the Water of Life under the custody of Khidr; your
candy-like lips have carried away (kidnapped) the sweetness of candy.

O my sweetheart! Why do you, out of your stony- heartedness, break the frail heart which, in its
delicacy (brittleness and frailty) is like the (fragile) glass?

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The desire (ardent passion) for such a (spiritual) majesty as you, has taken roots in the heart of
Hafiz; would that he (Hafiz) had been a wretched thrall of the dust of your door-sill.

Note: In Verses 3 and 4 in the foregoing lyric, the terms “Khidr’’, ‘Water of Life and
“zulmat” occur. “Khidr” is supposed to be presiding over the “Well of Immortality” and carried
Alexander to the “Water of Life’’ in the “zulmat’’ or darkness. In Radhasoami mysticism, the
region of Mahasunn is referred to as an unlimited expanse of zulmat or darkness (vide Sar
Bachan, Volume I, “Hidayat Nama’’, pp. 393-94, Soami Bagh, Agra, 1991), the presiding deity
of which is Akshar Purush (The Imperishable Deity) so that anyone who attains access to this
region is called a ““Mahatma’’ (Great Spirit). The focus or reservoir directly below the seat of
Akshar Purush is known as the Mansarovar {Kawthar or the Stream of Water of Life (see Pandit
Brahm Shankar Misra alias Maharej Saheb, Discourses on Radhasoami -----Soami Bagh, Agra,
1989, Articles 91, 92 and 93, pp. 15 Hafiz, in these verses seems to suggest that his beloved
master’s locks of hair are the emblems of the zulmat (darkness) of Mahasunn, and that he
himself crossed the Mahasunn and after having had immersion in the reservoir of spirituality
which is directly below the seat of Akshar Purush he attained to the states of Hootal Hoot and
Hoot. For the various meanings of zulmat, refer to Wilberforce Clarke, Diwan-i- Hafiz, I. pp.
149, 198-99 and 211, and the Shah Namah, op. cit., pp. 387-88.

LYRIC 127 (7 VERSES)

1-7. That beloved (master) of mine does not make the slightest enquiry about me-the one
consumed (in the fire of love for him); he never seeks to find out any news of my wounded
(broken) heart! Curiously (strangely) though, he is my physician (who alone can I heal my
ailments caused by his love) and in the grief (of separation from him) I am broken and sick at
heart (spiritually disturbed and tormented); what sort of physician he is that does not even bother
to enquire about his patient? (Only) yesterday, a certain physician (a sage) came up to my bed-
head (to visit me) and noticed my plight; (in great surprise) he butted in: “What has happened ?
Your beloved” (master) does not enquire about you?” I replied to him: “I am watching my ill-
starred fate and sullen destiny fast asleep; and he (my master), who is ever wakeful (for perfect
saints never sleep) makes no enquiries about me.” Distressed by my separation from his (healing
visage) a hundred times my spirit rose up to the lips (in order to escape my body), just because
that beloved (master) of mine does not give a hoot to my lost heart (dejected, depressed,
despondent and disillusioned). Last night, when I saw the moon (image) of his face in dream, it
(the image of his face) said (in amusement): “O yes at times, that beloved (master) of yours does
not give a hoot to you.” O the pre-eternal physician (God) ! Cast an eye on me, for to this burnt
out Hafiz, his beloved (master and your own plenipotentiary in the cosmos) does not give a hoot
(does not at all care for him).

LYRIC 128 (10 VERSES)

1-5. O master! if in your religion (i.e. in your way of life), to shed the blood of your lover is
permissible and lawful, then my counsel is the same as you deem to be right (i.e. I acquiesce in,
comply with and assent to what you desire and do, and that without protest and with fullest
consent, so that my will is the same as that of my beloved master-raazi-be-raza-i-yaar).

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The blackness of your hair is a Commentary (exposition) of the Text, “that Lord is the -creator
and controller of all darkness”, and the eggshell of your (marmorial) face is an elaboration of the
Text, “That Lord manifests the dawn

O comrade ! From my eyes, a hundred rivulets (of tears) have flowed into my bosom, and in
everyone of them, it is my water-boatman (i.e. my master) who himself swims (i.e. it is his
reflection which I see in every drop of my tears).

(O lovely master!) Your lip, which is like the Water of Life (Mansarovar) is the nutriment for
my soul; my body of dust receives its spiritual pabulum from it (from your lips, i.e. when we eat
the food and drink the water touched by your lips, it becomes so spiritualized that, for us, it
alone serves as the complete food for our body as well as soul).

From the claws of the noose of the locks of your hair, nobody could obtain release, nor has
anyone (who had even a glimpse of you) been able to escape the bow-like frame of your
eyebrows and the shaft of your jaunty ogle (your bewitchingly amorous looks).
6-10, (O beloved master!) Come on! (Don’t worry, for) I have emitted (pardoncd) you my blood-
money, if in your religion (way of life) the shedding of lover’s blood is permissible and lawful.

(O comrade! What can you understand about my beloved’s smartness, and the gamesmanship of
even his lips, for) despite a hundred tricks and contrivances that I employed, his lips denied me
even one kiss (i.e. my master did not allow me the ‘vision of his inner form even once, and did
not allow me even one draught of the Divine ambrosia, and impulse in which he was himself
basking); my heart did not succeed in attaining to its object, a hundred importunities by me
notwithstanding.

O (exhibitionist) abstinent! Don’t look for piety (by which you mean denial of love), repentance
(by which you mean a pledge not to love the master and not drink the ghostic wine), and
steadfastness (by which you mean steadfast adherence to your barren rituals and specious
practices): from the (spiritually) besotted, the (gnostic) lovers and the crazy, obsessed lovers (of
divine Laila, the perfect fiving master), nobody seeks piety (of your conception).

(O beloved master!) What is the worth of one cup from which I should go on quaffing in your
remembrance (i.e. what is the worth-of a single sitting of meditation in your remembrance); in
your remembrance I quaff from such cups all the time (i.e. do not forget you even for a moment,
O beloved master!).

By love! Would that the tongue of Hafiz goes on offering solicitations to your spirit ever and
ever, so long as the cycle of mornings and evenings runs (i.e. till infinity).

LYRIC 129 (8 VERSES)

1-8. (O Hafiz !) Catch sight of the new moon (the newly manifested master) and ask for the cup
(of gnostic wine), for this is the month of rest and refuge (and your beloved wouldn’t slay you);
it is the year of peace and piety (the year or saal lucky for the salik or ardent disciple).

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Keep the moment of union dear to your heart for it is the compeer of the night of qadr
honeymoon, the night of vision or mushahida) and the day of (spiritual) triumph. None (with
insight and intuition) ever quarrels with this deficient (despicable, wretched) phenomenal world;

O the Light of Eye (my spiritual comrade, the cynosure of my eye), carry off the ball of
(spiritual) success, amicably (without conflict and discord with the guileful and wily
ultracrepidarians)!

O my heart! You seem to be lax (complaisant and complacent, self-satisfied and showing a
desire to comply with the urge of carnality) in your (spiritual) endeavour, and I fear that if you
lose the key (remembrance and inarticulate recitation of the Great Name as revealed by the
beloved master), nobody would open the door (to God) for you.

As it is, fetch the (gnostic) wine, for he alone would pass his day (lifespan) in tranquility for
whom the lamp of the dawn (morning inarticulate recitation of the Ism-i-Azam) would lay the
morning cup (i.e. would forestall and take care of all satanic tendencies).

(O master!) What disciplined (cultured) obeisance can I, the besotted, render, when I don’t even
know what colour the Creator of the dawn would give me at the break of the dawn (i.e. when I
don’t know what you have in store for my spiritual fortune? Of that, you alone are the judge and
dispenser)?

It is the era of Shah Shuja, the patron of men of sharia and the enemy of gnostics; it is the time-
cycle for the tricky wisdom of sharia !O my heart and soul! Morning and evening devote your
endeavour to the attainment of (gnostic) tranquility (through the practice of Sultan-al-Azkar,
hearing the Saut-i-Sarmadi).

O comrade! Like Hafiz, in the expectation of morning (emancipation from the thraldom of flesh
and lust), convert your night (time when the world-lings-devotees of lust-sleep and snore) into
day (the refulgence unfolded by the Ism-i-Baa Musamma) so that from the flame of the
(spiritual) lamp (i.e. your luminous heart), the rose of your (spiritual) rapture may blossom.

LYRIC 130 (9 VERSES)

1-9. In my ardent desire for the auspicious countenance (of my beloved master) my heart, like his
propitious hair, is scattered, distracted and downcast.

Except for his nullifidian locks of (black) hair, there is none who has been the beneficiary of his
propitious countenance (i.e. except for one who is as close to him as his locks of hair, nobody
has received any spiritual gain from my beloved master). It is only the (apparently) black but
auspicious (disciple) who is ever and anon his confidant and close companion.

If the free and unfettered cypress (a disciple who is straight and emancipated from all bonds)
were to perceive his heart-elevating stature (i.e. his Spiritual majesty), he would become like the
tremulous willow tree (spiritually vibrating and excited).

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O cupbearer (my spiritual comrade)! Serve me the red wine (of the complexion of Lahoot) in the
remembrance of his magical narcissus-like eyes.

Out of craving, associated with his (beauteous and) absorbing eyebrows, my own stature has
become double-bent like the bow (i.e. with my concentration on the nukta-i-sveda, the portal to
Musallasi, the region of Three Elevations or Lahoot, I have become a model of humility).

The fragrance of the hair, sweet as ambergris, of that propitious (master) has put the musky
zephyr of Tatar to shame.

If the inclination of everyone is towards one direction (and no other), the inclination of my heart
is always towards that auspicious (master).

I am a thrall of the desire of that one, who is, like Hafiz, an attendant of the infidel (beloved
master’s locks) of that propitious (master, whose locks make his lovers lose their traditional faith
and become infidels in the eye of the traditionalists).

SECTION V (WITH DAAL AS THE TERMINAL)

LYRIC 131 (9 VERSES)
1-9. The nimbus of the springtide has arrived and it is the advent of the wind of Nauroz (the day
of coronation of Jamshed or the master of the age); I desire a round (drinking spree) of (gnostic)
drinks, and such a minstrel who may sing, “Yes, he (the beloved master) bas arrived.

That beloved (master) of mine and his beloved associates are showing up in (spiritual)
resplendence, and I am shame-soaked, ashamed of my (empty) purse (so that I have nothing to
scatter around in jubilation). Good heavens! How long shall I drag along with this sense of
shame (and helplessness)?

(O Hafiz !) It is an age visited by famine of munificence and generosity and I should not sell my
honour and dignity; if I have nothing else to sell, I must sell out my khirqa (mantle, i.e. I must
shed and cast external paraphernalia to the ground) and from its sale-proceeds I must acquire the
(gnostic) wine and have access to the rose (the beloved master).

It is on the cards, that my desire (to behold my master) may be fulfilled by a stroke of my luck,
for last night when I was offering prayers (meditating in the wise of Sultan-al- Azkar), the dawn
of the cheering sound of aameen (the sound of Om or Aunkar or Hoo) was breaking (for Aunkar,
refer to my The Guru in Indian Mysticism, Agra, 1994, p. 200).

That rose (my beloved master) with smile on his lips and laughing lustily (literally, with a
thousand laughter) came to the garden, as if from some quarter he had smelt the scent of some
munificent (Divine impulse).

If, in the state of ecstasy (caused by master’s splitting his sides, i.e. hearty laughter) a skirt
(garment) of mine became split, what do I care? (for quite often, it is in dissolute pursuits that
one’s wealth is dissipated and one’s clothes become tattered;) at least one apparel must be ripped
up in the pursuit of good name (as a gnostic lover).

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(O lovely master! Give me my due and requite my love for) the subtle points of your ruby-like:
lips, of which I have spoken, and the excesses (of cruelty) perpetrated by your (beauteous) locks
of hair, that I have put up with; who else has borne them (i.e. what other lover of yours has gone
through that ordeal)?

If the sense of justice of (my spiritual) Sultan does not wish to go into the plight of the victims of
his love, then it is time that these ardent lovers, who have taken to secluded corners (for the
purpose of recitation of the Great Name and Contemplation on the form of the perfect master and
meditation on the Saut-i-Sarmadi), Cease to have any expectation of (spiritual) tranquility.

I don’t know, O my comrade, who has shot the lover-killing arrow at the heart of (poor) Hafiz;
all that I know is that from (the lips of) his freshly composed lyrics, blood was trickling (i.e. his
latest verses show the depth of the wounds inflicted on his heart by hi
s love for his beloved master).

Lyrics 132 (9 Verses)

1-5. If that hallowed fowl (Gabriel, the archetype of living master), sitting atop my door, were to
come down again to me, my past years, carried off by my old age, would return (i.e. I would
become spiritually young once again). ‘The hallowed fowl, or taaer- i-qudsi, refers to Gabriel
(the man of God) one of God’s four favoured angels and the spirit of truth. Milton calls him as
“the chief of the angelic guards” (Paradise Lost, LV, 549). In the Talmud, he appears as the
destroyer of the hosts of Sennacherib, as the man who showed Joseph the way (Genesis, xxxvii,
15), and as one of the angels who buried Moses (Deut., xxxiv, 6). It was Gabriel, who took
Mohammed to heaven on Al-Burraq and revealed to him his “prophetic love”. In the Old
Testament, Gabriel is said to have explained to Daniel certain visions, and in the New Testament,
he announced to Zacharias the future birth of John the Baptist, and appeared to Mary, the mother
of Jesus (Luke, i, 26 etc.). Gabriel’s horse is Haizum, and his hounds are called Gabble Ratchet.

I am entertaining the hope from these raining tears of mine that possibly the lightning (streak) of
good luck which escaped my sight, may again strike.

If he (i.e. my master), before whom the refulgent sun would take off its crown of hauteur (as a
mark of his servility to my master), were to come back to me, I would feel and act as a king.

If on the feet of my grand and magnificent (master), I do not sacrifice the pearl (the essence) of
my soul (i.e. my surat, the quintessence of my soul), of what use it would be for me, later?

For that one, the dust of whose sole of feet was ever the crown of my head, I importune God for
his return to my bosom.
6-9. If 1 notice that my new moon (beloved master) has come back to me from his journey, I
would have the trumpet of my new good fortune blown from the minaret of auspiciousness and
good luck.

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Like other dear comrades, I will also trail behind and chase him; and if my corporeal being
(literally, my person) would not come back, at least they would get the news of my (self-)
effacement.

The roaring reverberation (ghulghul) of violin (one hears in Hahoot) and his sweet spiritual
vision of early morning, hinder my master from coming to me; otherwise, if he were to hear my
morning sobs and sighs (uttered by me in my longing for him), he would promptly return to me.

O Hafiz! I am yearning (arzoomand) for the glimpse of my king’s face (master’s face) radiant as
the moon; strive and pay full attention, so that he may safely come back from the top through my
door (into my bosom).

LYRIC 133.(7 VERSES)

1-7.

The whole lot of blood of my heart is oozing through my eyes (in the form of tears) flowing on
my face; 1 don’t quite know what will come to pass on my face on account of my eyes (i.e. my
eyes that behold the face of my master, wound my heart from which all its blood is oozing out.
People who cannot watch my wounded heart will assuredly see my wet face and will deride me
for my tearful love).

I have concealed such an yearning (ishq) in my heart, that if my head is thrown on the wind
(wasted or destroyed), it would be destroyed by that ardour (fervour of love).

I have laid my face on the dust of the path of my beloved (master); if my beloved (master) was to
trample upon it, that would be appropriate.

The tears from the eyes (of a lover) are a flood and on whosoever it passes, his heart, albeit hard
and inflexible as a stone, would slip and would be washed out of its (filthy) place (i.e. would be
cleaned of pollution and defilement).

Day and night, I am in altercation with the waters (flood of tears) of my eyes; the casus belli is
why do they flow out through the passageway (my eyes) which is fastened on the head of his
lane (i.e. my eyes which are the abode of my beloved master, so that every outsider can see them
in the open and can be torn by jealousy about my love for that beauteous master).

If my moon (master), the kind sustainer of my spirit, were to walk (abroad) even with his kurta
on, the resplendent sun rising from the east would tear his clothes, out of envy (i.e. he would
become crazy in love for him).

Hafiz goes to the (gnostic) tavern (i.e. the congregation of his beloved master) with a sincere
heart, just as the Sufis advance towards the covered portico of the hospice (dar-ul-safa, i.e. the
mosque).

LYRIC 134 (7 VERSES)

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1-7. (O lovely master!) Whosoever returns from your lane, weary and sick of you, he never
attains to his (spiritual) object, and at long last comes a cropper, shame-soaked (failing
completely).

The (sincere and devoted) seeker seeks the way to the beloved (Lord) through the light of the
instruction (initiation by the perfect living master), for if were to take to the way in delusion, he
would not reach anywhere (near God).

(O inane seeker!) You have spent (squandered) your life (in frivolous sports of lust, observance
of antiquated rituals, adhering to obsolete beliefs and pedantic, philosophical arguments, study of
old scriptures and reliance on sharia and karm kand, and so on); it is now time that you catch
hold of (gnostic) wine and the beloved (perfect living master); fie on these times (hours of life)
that have passed away in the service of gilded (false, specious, hypocritical, self-styled masters,
the charlatans)!

O the guide (decisive argument, the beckon light, daleel) of the lost (strayed) hearts! For the sake
of the Lord, help, for if the (spiritual) wayfarer docs not travel on the right (straight) path at his
own, guided by the daleel (the perfect master who needs no proof to show his spiritual majesty)
he takes to the right (straight) path.

The ratio decidendii (reason of decision) of the pronouncement about steadfastness (self-
restraint) and inebriation is the quality of the ultimate state of each; for the present, nobody
knows who will be in what state, at the end.

The caravan whose beacon is the grace of God (i.e. the perfect living master who lives’ and
functions by the grace of God), is formed with grace and perfection of beauty (or mysterium
fascinans) and it marches gloriously and in great majesty (mysterium tremendum).

O Hafiz! Fill in the cup (i.e. your heart and soul) from the fount of (Divine) wisdom (from the
Divine impulse and instructions of the perfect master); it is on the cards that the print of
ignorance may be erased from the tablet of your heart (by the grace, and under the guidance of
your beloved master).

LYRIC 135 (9 VERSES)

1-9. That (spiritual seeker) who keeps the cup (of gnostic wine) in his hand is ever in full
command (suliani) of his body (senses, faculties and evil tendencies).

O seeker! Look for that Water of Life from which Khidr obtained everlasting life in the
(master’s) tavern (congregation), for it has the cup inside of it (i.e. it will give you the gnostic
wine in proportion to your receptivity and Spiritual credentials).

Pass on the central bead of the rosary of Jamshed (i.e. of your desire to become a perfect gnostic)
to the cup (of gnosis, i.e. to the master’s gnostic storehouse, his grace and favour); this because,
the chain of your heart (as seeker) is linked with his heart (as your master).

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O cupbearer (beloved perfect master)! None in this time- bound realm, who has a (spiritual) aim,
is outside the gamut of your lips (your spiritual range).

Pass on the central bead of the rosary of Jamshed (i.e. of your desire to become a perfect gnostic)
to the cup (of gnosis, i.e. to the master’s gnostic storehouse, his grace and favour); this because,
the chain of your heart (as seeker) is linked with his heart (as your master).

Into the wounds on the chest of the afflicted (lovers), your ruby-like (lively and beauteous) -lips
rub salt all over (i.e. make their pain even worse).

O lovely eyed master ! Narcissus has taken on credit all its intoxicating devices and fascinating
effects from your beauteous eyes (i.e. all other seers and sages draw their sustenance from the
light of your eye from your spiritual treasury).

The remembrance (dhikr) of your (fair) face (spiritual intelligence and wisdom) and of your
(dark) locks of hair (the contrasting nescience or maya against which your locks warn the ardent
disciple) is, for my heart, that litany which it recites every morning and evening (i.e. from
morning to evening).

O my sweetheart (my bewitchingly lovely master)! The well of your chin keeps sunk in it two
hundred slaves (lovers) like Hafiz!

LYRIC 136 (9 VERSES)

1-9. (O simple-hearted seeker! Witness this amazing sight.) He, the fragrance from whose lily-
like locks, puts the fragrance of ambergris mixed with the sweet scent of musk (ghaliya) to
shame, preens and deals harshly with those who have lost their hearts to him!

By the sides of those whom he has killed (by his beauty and comeliness), he passes (swiftly and
unconcerned) like the wind; what can be done for he is our life and passes by us as fast as our
life.

In the backdrop of his black locks of hair, his sun-like radiant and moon-like beautiful face is a
sun which keeps a cloud in front of it (to hide his spiritual luster from the vulgar).

If the Water of Life is that which lies inside the (heavenly) lips (of my beloved master), then it is
clear and open as broad daylight that Khidr partakes only of a mirage, only an illusory Water of
Life (mirage is an image of a distant object or sheet of water, often inverted or distorted, caused
by atmospheric refraction by hot air and this creates illusion).

My eyes have released a whole flood of tears in every corner (i.e. my love for the master and my
heart beats are reverberating in the entire cosmos), so that they may keep your cypress-like glory
and beauty refreshed and lively (the anguish in the longing heart of the disciple ever keeps the
beloved master in a State of spiritual upbeat, while disciple’s indifference and unconcernedness
makes him downbeat so that he withdraws and goes back to divine abode, dhur dhaam).

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Your saucy jauntiness is erroneously shedding my blood (for I am your lover, not a stranger);
but, then, I wish it Godspeed and wish that it may have more leisure to follow its free urge (to
kill me), and I acquiesce in its righteously correct opinion (that I be killed by the master’s
sauciness and pertness).

O beloved master! It seems to me that your besotted (makhmoor) eyes, leaving my heart to fend
for itself, are now aiming at my liver; perhaps your besotted Turk (i.e. your eyes) is disposed to
make a kebab of my liver. The liver was anciently supposed to be the seat of love. In
Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor, (ii, I), Pistol speaks of Falstaff as loving Ford’s wife
“with liver burning hot"

My sickly soul (depressed by separation from you) cannot look you in the face and ask a
question or two and get an answer from you, that wounded (lover) is lucky who (without putting
a question), gets a reply from the beloved (master).

When and why should your besotted eye even cast a glance towards the wounded heart of Hafiz
for it has a ruined, besotted lover in every corner (of the globe), (for the perfect master is the
natural sovereign master of the entire cosmos: vide Sar Bachan, Prose, Part I, para 53; and Part
II, para 224).

LYRIC 137 (7 VERSES)

1-7. If the (gnostic) wine had not made us oblivious of our heart’s grief (caused by our separation
from you, O master) then, the scare of the accidental happenings (i.e. the attacks launched on the
gnostics by the wily charlatans) would extirpate us, root and branch.
And if intelligence had refused to provide us an anchor by the ecstasy of love (for the master),
how could it (intellect) row the boat of our life out of this terrible whirlpool (which this, sensual
world is)?

(O sickly seeker!) I am the (skilful and experienced) physician dealing out the drug of ardour of
love. Quaff the (gnostic) wine, for this marijuana (maajoon, the dried leaves and flowers of the
hemp plant used as narcotic) generates unconcernedness ( faraghat, with the sensual world) and
repels the fear of calamity.

O spiritual fellow-traveler! My frail heart is ever drawn towards the garden (the master’s
Congregation) in order that it may save its life from death through the hearty camaraderie of the
zephyr (the Divine impulse which brings to me the soul-lifting fragrance from my beloved
master).

O spiritual wayfarer! Your passageway lies through layers of zulmat (darkness of the region of
Mahasunn, the Great Void of Darkness, for which see Verse 2 in Lyric 128, ante) ; seek a Khidr
(a perfect master and guide) for the way, lest the fire of (spiritual) deprivation, (engaged by the
ghouls, i.e. the lewd desires lurking in your nature) should carry off (tarnish) your (spiritual)
sheen and fair name (i.e. it is only your perfect master who can serve as your sword and shield in
your encounter with your carnal self).

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I moan and lament that this firmament (vicissitudes of time) has played the dice of deceit and
malice, against one and all, and there has been none who could escape the duplicity and fraud (of
the charlatans, the tall and mighty overlords of this world, the enemies of the gnostic way of
life).

Hafiz became incinerated (in the fire of his love for his beloved master) and yet nobody told the
beloved (master) of his plight; perhaps, the zephyr, for the sake of God, may carry his message
(to his beloved master).

LYRIC 138 (8 VERSES)

1-8. (My beloved master is simply incomprehensible to me, for) if I withdraw from his presence,
he reprehends me (i.e. kicks up a row, blames, censures and reprimands me); if I sit tight and
don’t seek him (wait patiently, bide my time), he grudges it.

And if I, for a while, out of my faithfulness to him, lie down like dust on his passageway, he runs
away (from me) like wind. When I ask him, “Why do you mix up with all and sundry?,” he
rebukes me in such a harsh tone that he makes me shed tears of blood.

If I ask him for half a kiss (a caress with half-open lips, a light gnostic touch), it is a thousand
pities that he makes me face the music (i.e. hits back harshly for my impatience) which is, of
course, music to my ears (i.e. something which is very pleasant to hear).

The enchantment (faraib) which I experience in your eyes, O master, scatters the luster of many
a face (many an ardent lover) on the dust (i.e. it makes the high and ‘the mighty feel small).

The ups and downs of the desolation of love are a snare of tribulation (an ordeal); where is such
a lion-hearted (lover) who would not take the precaution to escape it?

O seeker! You better seek a long life and steadfast perseverance, for this Wheel of Time is such a
performer of sleight-of-hand that it shows up stranger and stranger conjuring tricks (all the time,
and to stand to them, one has to have a good deal of patience and a long life).

O Hafiz ! Lay your head on the door-sill of acquiescence (to your beloved master’s will and
command), for if you fall foul (with your beloved’s desire), the whole cosmos would fall foul
with you.

LYRIC 139 (9 VERSES)

1-9. Who is there who would be so kind as to be faithful to me? Or who would ever do a little
good to an evil-doer like me (budkare chu mun).

Who would, through the sound (anhat shabd) of fiddle (the Saut-i-Sarmadi one hears in Hahoot)
and flute (the Saut-i- Sarmadi of the Rotating Cave or Hootal Hoot) give me his (my beloved
master’s gnostic) message, and then would fulfill my desire for a peg of (gnostic) drink (reveal to
my -mystical secrets).

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O Hafiz ! Don’t despair of the heart-ravisher (the beloved master) who has rubbed down (the
mirror of) my spirit and yet from whom the ultimate objective of my heart has not yet been
realized, for it is on the cards that he may requit my love by tenderly caressing my heart (and
soul). (Look at this tete-a-tete I had with him.)

I told him, “Since the moment I have come into ‘existence’ (out of non-existence), I have not
been able to untie the knot of (the mystique of) your locks of hair (i.e. I did not have the good
luck of having a vision of your inner form)”, and he replied, ‘I have directed it (my lock of hair)
to be cheeky towards you (and to vex and tease you, no end)!’’

Speak of just one subtlety of (gnostic) ecstasy to that ill-tempered weaver of pashmina (woolen
khirqa or garment, i.e. the Sufi who is cantankerous and ill-disposed towards the genuine
gnostics and is a dweller of the degraded khanqah, convent), so that he may cease to be clever
and cunning (and forsake his mad pursuit of name, fame and glory).

For a beggar (lover of the gnostic master) like me, who is unknown (i.e. who seeks no publicity
and does not indulge in exhibitionism), it is difficult to make friends with him (with the
exhibitionist Sufi); for, when does the sultan (a blue-blooded saint) indulge in lechery secretly
with an intoxicated merchant of harlotry (trader in sex which that exhibitionist Sufi is).

If I am made to experience cruelty at the hands of the twisted and coiled (i.e. mysterious) locks
of hair (of my master), it is easy for me, for the one who indulges in cunning love (for his
beloved master), what does he care for chains and fetters?

The array (troops in battle order) of grief (caused by my separation from my master) has grown
innumerable and now I seek succour from my stars (fate); may be that the pride of gnosis, who is
the bondsman of that gracious Lord (Abdul Samad, i.e. my beloved master), may come to share
my grief (by taking me in his embrace).

But, O Hafiz, in the context of his bewitching eyes, don’t lay store (by his favour), for his coils
of hair, dark as the dark night, indulge in a good deal of cunningness (with me).

LYRIC 140 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O you (beloved master) whose pistachio-like mouth (with the sweet flavour of pistachio) has
mocked at and ridiculed the mouth of candy (i.e. has put the most mellifluous talkers to shame)!
I am your yearner (Mushtaq); for the sake of God, give me a sweet smile.

O (bitter) pistachio (i.e. the Sufi, smiling cunningly! Who are you (to smile)? (In other words,
what is your worth?). For God’s sake don’t smile where and when my beloved (master) smiles.

If you want that rivers of tears of blood (remorse and humiliation) may not flow from your eyes,
don’t tie up your heart with the (paederastic) desire for young boys (catamites). (Some Sufis
were notorious for indulgence in paederasty).

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Sometimes you (the paederastic Sufi) exhibit your (filthy) locks of hair and sometimes you taunt
and sneer at us (with your upper lip curled; (be gone, for) we don’t trust a man who is self-
focusing and self-opinionated (conceited).

O master! The Tuba tree (a tree in paradise, planted by God with His own hand, and into which
He breathed His spirit, so that it produces ornaments and robes of honour for the blessed ones)
cannot stand its ground (literally, cannot breathe a word) in the face of your majesty and stature
(and, therefore, how can a filthy, paederastic Sufi stand his ground before you?). I pass by this
tale, for this discourse is going up to lofty heights (of paradise where there is the Tuba tree).

How can a person, whose heart is not a captive of this noose (of your love, O master), be ever
acquainted with the distraction of my state (plight)?

The bazaar of my longing (shauq) has become fervent (literally, heated), O comrade! (Tell me,)
where is that flamboyant face (resplendent as the candle) so that I may burn my soul in the fire of
his (flamboyant) face like the black til grain (seasame, in order to ward off the evil eye from his-
face).

O Hafiz! You don’t forsake the amorous ogle (ghamza) of the beauteous (masters), even though
you know that your place is -in Khwarizm or Khajand (the beauteous beloveds of which places
were renowned for their coyness and jauntiness).

LYRIC 141 (7 VERSES)

1-7. (O beloved master!) If the wind (Divine impulse) fetches the-fragrance of your lane, to me,
in consideration of that glad tidings, I would sacrifice the soul of the entire world (of mine) unto
the wind. Although you have thrown and scattered the dust of my being, would that the flying
dust (ghubar) of my being of clay may not fall on your skirt (which is pure gnosis and spirit). O
the light (cynosure) of my eye! Since the day you have slammed the door (of your love) on me,
this whole world has never opened the door of joy en me. The fantasy (image) of your
countenance makes my ‘eyes full of blood (tears of blood) my yearning for your locks of hair
(i.e. your mystique) is wasting (literally, throwing to the wind) my life (umr). (O mysterious
master!) You are neither before my eyes (i.e. I cannot see you in manifest form), nor are you
evanescent from my eyes (for your phantasy and image is in my eyes, ever); you neither
remember me, nor do you slip out of my memory (you don’t leave me alone). O comrade! If the
enemy (the pedantic ascetics and false, exhibitionist Sufis) were to strike me with a sword,
instead of a barb (cutting remark or jibe), I will never take my hands off my beloved master’s
hand (i.e. I will never throw up my hands and give up my beloved master in despair); let what
happens, happen. (O lovely master!) Hafiz is not seeking to escape from the hands of his ardent
passion for you, to save his life (from the sneerers, jeerers and taunters), for no Firhaad seeks to
escape from the ordeal of love for his Sheerin (i.e. O master! In relation to you, who is like my
Sheerin, I am your Firhaad).
LYRIC 142 (12 VERSES)
1-6. Those (saints) who can, by their mere look, transmute the (clods) of earth into elixir
(alchemy) would that they turn a corner (angle) of their eye towards us.

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It is better if my pain (ardent desire for spiritual redemption) remains hidden from the healing
cockalorums (the pretending, fake spiritual quacks, the charlatans); may be that (the genuine
saints) may treat and cure me from the treasure (of drugs) of the invisible.

When the beloved (master) does not lift the veil from his (inner).face, why does every Tom, Dick
and Harry concoct tales on the basis of guesswork (i.e. imaginary tales)?

When the beauty (excellence) of the end is not dependent on either inebriation or abstinence, the
best for us is to leave our (spiritual) business to the care of (the master’s) grace and favour.

O seeker! Do not live bereft of gnosis, for at the auction post (i.e. the market) of passion of love
(ishq), the men of perception deal with the perceivers (aashna) of divinity. (so that they may
come: good and not come a cropper).
O spiritual wayfarer ! Pass through the lane of the (perfect preceptor’s) tavern (master’s
congregation) so that the band (zumrah) of gnostic tipplers, in attendance at the court (of the
gnostic master, i.e. in his congregation), may spend the particles (every moment, every instant)
of their time in supplication (intercession) for you.
7-12.
The shirt (kurta) from which I am getting the (spiritual) scent of Joseph (my beloved master), I
am afraid, it may not be ripped up by his ghayoor (non-Muslims, unfaithful, disbeliever) brothers
(rivals of the perfect gnostic master).

Now, that he (the perfect master) is hidden behind the curtain (i.e. not manifest), so many
dissensions and controversies (fitna) are cropping up, I wonder what they will do when the
curtain is lifted (i.e. when the perfect master becomes manifest).

If by this hadith, the (inanimate) stone (the simple-hearted seeker) were to moan and lament,
don’t be surprised, for the one with simple (glorious and sincere) heart can narrate the tale of the
(love-stricken) heart beautifully and lucidly.

O my master! Hidden from the enviers, call me (unto yourself), for the (spiritually) generous, for
the sake of God’s plearure, do good in secret.

O gnostic seeker! Quaff (the gnostic) wine (in secret, i.e. in the company of those who know this
gnostic secret), for a hundred (so-called) sins committed behind the curtain, (hidden from those,
alien to gnosis) are far better than that prayer and obeisance which is rendered in the open for
vain display, and guilefully.

O Hafiz! Union (with the beloved master) is not always attainable, for the kings (the perfect
saints) don’t pay much attention to the plight of the destitute, (i.e lovers who are ever begging for
the beloved master’s attention and tendresse).

LYRIC 143 (7 VERSES)

1-7. He whom they (the perfect masters) serve the cup of vintage wine (of gnosis), realize
that they accommodate him (literally, give room to him) within the compound (enclosure where
the defiled, the aliens are forbidden entry) of their (spiritual) ‘mansion (their ‘heart). O (defiled)

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 Sufi!. Don’t deny (i.e. don’t run counter to) the inebriated ones (those who quaff the
gnostic wine and become spiritually, ecstatic), for on the day of Creation, the mystery of love
was given to the children of Adam, who were destitute (see the Koran, XVII, 70 and XV, 27).

O my cupbearer (beloved master)! Serve me the red (gnostic) wine (of the colour and
effect of Lahoot), fragrant as musk, for these fellows, with dianoetic intellect and discursive
reason, are vexing and teasing these (spiritually) ecstatic (the saints and their ardent disciples
whose millat is ishg).

The poor (abstinent) who is today promised beatitude (supreme blessedness and
happiness) for tomorrow (but who, for today, is condemned to live in total spiritual poverty), has
just no share in the spiritual delight, of which this life has rich store (which is meant only for
those who are steadfastly devoted to the gnostic practices prescribed, and the Great: Name
revealed by the perfect living saint).

O minstrel (the disciple-in-chief, who sings plaintively in love for the perfect master) !
Play on the musical notes of the voiceless lovers (who hear the Saut-i- Sarmadi and are devoted
to dhikr-i-khafi, recitation of the Great Name without moving their’ lips and uttering a word by
mouth), for they who are destitute of (worldly) goods and are alien to the inarticulate voice
(Saut-i-Sarmadi), from the Invisible, on them they bestow (spiritual goods and) inarticulate
sounds (Saut-i-Sarmadi).

O Hafiz ! Remain (spiritually) happy and lively for the beloved (saints) who lives on
drinking dregs (i.e. who are unassuming, humble, but, in sooth, spiritual sultans) offer the
(gnostic) cup of rapture to that I lover who is, ever and anon, happy and acquiescent (to the
master’s will and pleasure-his mauj).

O lovely master! If the scribes of his fate allot to him a place in the boudoir (haram) of
your union (the gnostic boudoir of your soul), will Hafiz not bid adieu to the celestial paradise
(jannat-i-firdaus)? (Assuredly, he will abandon it for good).

LYRIC 144 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O my beloved master! That one who bestowed on your countenance colour de rose (lively
and bright, the colour of rose, red, Lahoot) and eglantine (white, Hahoot), He can also confer
upon me, the wretched and despicable (Hafiz), patience and peace (patience to endure the pangs
of separation from you and contentment and the state of being at peace with the tribulation and
destruction of his heart that he has lost to you, which, in sooth, you have ravished).

He that taught your curly hairs the ways of perpetrating injustice and cruelty (on your lovers),
His grace and favour can mete out justice to a grief-stricken like me.

In sooth, I had become despaired of (the life and happiness of) Farhaad, the day he entrusted the
rein (control) of his infatuated heart into the hands of (his beloved) Sheerin (the cruel-hearted).
(Same is applicable to me, for the day that beloved master bewitched me, I had become

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despaired of my life, in as much as I had realized that he would slay me by his indifference and
unconcernedness.)

If I don’t have the treasure of gold (i.e. union with my beloved master), do I have the treasure of
(infinite) perseverance and contentedness left to me ; he (the master) who has given to the kings
(the lucky lovers) that treasure (of union with him), he (the master) has given this (steadfast
perseverance and endurance) to the beggars (his poor lovers).

This (fleshly, bewitching) world is like a comely bride to look at; but he who becomes wedded to
and united with her, he has given away his entire life as jointure.

After knowing all this, there will be this hand of mine and the skirt of that lofty, Cypress-like
(beloved master of mine, which I will firmly grasp in my hand, especially now that the zephyr
(Divine impulse) has given me the glad tidings of the advent of Springtide (the moment of union
with my beloved master).

In his ire and grief, dealt out by the cycle of time (this vicissitudinous, phenomenal realm), the
heart of Hafiz has become blood-soaked, on account of his Separation from your (radiant and
resplendent) face. O master (Khwaja)! You are the quintessence of gnosis (Qawaam-al-deen); I
raise hue and cry for justice.

LYRIC 145 (7 VERSES)

1-7. If God were to catch a person for every lapse he commits, the earth (space) would
take to moaning and lamentation, and time itself would take to sighing and sobbing (i.e. there
would remain none to - walk on this earth in safety, for at every step he would commit faults and
transgressions), O man! You commit sins and transgressions on the face of the earth (i.e. in full
view of the Mother Earth), and are not frightened in the least ! You do not even care that by the
ominousness (ill-omen) of sin, even the moon On the firmament (i.e. the entire phenomenal
realm) is (adversely) affected. O my spiritual comrade! One of these nights, by the shame of my
sins, in my prostration unto the Lord, I would wep (shed tears of remorse) so much that that
night, on the sport of prostration, the grass would grow (i.e. my sins would be extirpated). Before
that lordly Sultan (the almighty God), a sin, small and insignificant as a straw, and a sin, big and
formidable as a mountain are on a par with each other: sometime He does not seize you for a
Himalayan error; sometimes he catches you for a transgression insignificant as a blade of grass.
At the time of my bidding adieu to beloved master, I will weep in such a style that to whatever
land he goes, the waters (tears) of my eyes would barricade his path. O beloved master! You
have clean hands (with clean break from lewdness and lust, ego and hauteur, anger and
attachment, boast and bluster, delusion and bewilderment); whence would you become filthy
(vicious and vile), so that tomorrow they could parade your sins and transgressions in order that
those who are supposed to suffer any inequity at your hands, might seek retribution? O Hafiz!
When the king (the beloved par excellence, the perfect master) were to aim at the heart of those
who have lost their hearts to him (i.e. when the perfect master becomes dead-set on the
redemption of his lovers), who has, the gall and gumption to cross his path (thwart his decree, for
what the perfect master decrees is God’s own decree; of Sar Bachan, Poetry, Volume II, Verse 3,
Poos. Maas).

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LYRIC 146 (LO VERSES)
1-5. That beloved (master) from whom my abode (my heart, the abode of my master) was the
habitat of peris (divinity), like the peri, he was, from head to feet, free from any blemish (and
taint).

Lured by his fragrance, my heart insisted: l will stay put in this (his) city (so as to be close to him
and his spiritual impulse). That poor thing (my heart) failed to realize that his beloved (master)
was a wanderer (this moment here, that moment somewhere else, for the perfect saints are not
bound to the realm of time and space; when they descend here and when they ascend to their
Divine abode, nobody can predict).

In as much the wont of this traversing sphere (falak or Wheel of Time) is to tear the veil of
secrecy (and expose everyone’s hidden designs and secrets), the mystery of my heart is not the
only mystery from which the veil of secrecy has been lifted (so that the mystique of my love for
my beloved master also became exposed at the dexterous hands of time).
The cynosure of my eyes, my master, the one with Divine wisdom, is that moon who had the
discerning eye to distinguish effortlessly, in’ the realm of culture of beauty and love, (as to who
is the genuine lover and-who is only given to lust).

My evil star has taken away my effulgent sun from my grasp (literally, claws). Ah, what can I
do, for it was an affliction caused by the traversal of the moon (i.e. it was my bad luck).
6-10.
O my heart! Accept his (my master’s) excuse (for having deserted you), for you are a beggar (his
crazy lover) while he (the master) was head and shoulders above all in the kingdom of beauty
(i.e. how could the sultan of the dominium of ‘spiritual beauty continue to flirt with a despicable
wretch like you, O my heart!.

The water of his lips (i.e. his spiritual word) was sweet and limpid, that rose (his face, kindly and
gracious) was refreshing (reminding you of Lahoot) and the verdure (i.e. his delicate hair) was
enlivening (reminding you of the valley of flowers around Mansarovar or Kawthar in Hahoot)
but also, he (my master) was a moving treasury, wandering from place to place (sometimes here,
at other times elsewhere).

The bulbul (the lover of the master) kills itself by the ire induced by the fact that the rose (the
beloved master), early in the morning, was up his (spiritual) splendour to the zephyr (the
universal soul that informs all beings).

O Hafiz! Those moments that were passed in the (sweet) company of the beloved (master) were
indeed happy; all the rest went off in vain, in total oblivion and ignorance (avidya).

Every treasure of good luck that God conferred upon Hafiz was from the blessings of
solicitations and implorations made in the night (when the whole world sleeps) and the stipend
(Divine impulse) granted (imparted) by the grace of the master, every early morning (i.e. the
outcome of meditation, contemplation and recitation of the Great Name performed in the pre-
dawn hours, under the close guidance of the beloved master).

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LYRIC 147 (9 VERSES)

1-9, If my heart feels drawn (attracted) towards the colourful (gnostic) wine, it is perhaps
because I don’t get the scent of any (spirtual) good and safety from the wily, guileful abstinent.

If the worldlings stop me from passion of love (for my beloved master, from the millat of ishq), I
do (only) that which the Creator and the Lord of the world directs me to do.

Don’t leave off the hope of charity (faiz) and munificence (karamat), for the practice of being
kind and generous confers absolution and acts as the intercessor for the redemption of the
(gnostic) lovers.

My heart is firmly settled in the (endless) chain of dhikr (dhikr-i-khafi, silent recitation of the
Great Name as revealed by the perfect master) in the hope that (by remainning engrossed in this
dhikr), it may be able to open some coil (divine mystery) of the lock of hair of the beloved
master (i.e. so that my heart may receive the vision of the inner Divine form of my beloved
master).

(O beloved!) When God has bestowed on you (spiritual) excellence (beauty) and the screen
(boudoir) of good fortune, what for do you require a masseur (mashshtta) to embellish and adorn
you? (in other words, you don’t need any extraneous agent to reinforce you spiritually.)

This garden (the congregation of the gnostic devout) would never be empty of cypress and
anemone (saints and sages, with the stature of cypress and the ruddy, spiritually healthy
complexion); if one departs, another comes in.

This bride-like world (inconstant and unfaithful) looks comely, but remember and understand
that this veiled (conceited and covered up repulsive world) never attends anyone’s wedding (i.e.
union with the perfect master, whom she shuns like a plague).

I wheedled him (my beloved master) “O moon-faced (beautiful and radiant as moon)! What will
happen (i.e. what will it matter to you) if by your sweet smile for a while, broken-hearted (lover
of yours) would get some relief and rest?”

But laughing away my request, he replied: “O Hafiz! For God’s sake, don't be carried away by
such a desire, for your planting a kiss would defile the face of the moon (i.e. you will, of course,
get a bad name, I too would be subjected to calumny, to the advantage of the cunning, guileful
preachers and ascetics, hence observe modesty).

LYRIC 148 (8 VERSES)

1-8. When the gnostic, in the pre-dawn hours, undertook a pilgrimage to the (spiritual) tavern
(master’s congregation, full of those inebriated by the gnostic wine), by the limpid and sparkling
water of the (gnostic) wine, they attained to taharat [cleanliness by purging nafaq (or hypocrisy),
khunanat (or breach of trust, ‘falsehood and insincerity), zulm (or inequity and aggression),
bukhl (avarice), israf (or extravagance), fasad (0% mischief and dissension), hasad (of envy and
jealousy), istakhar (or arrogance and ostentation), fahsha (or lewdness and abominable, repulsive

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longings and thoughts)]. The moment, they (natural processes) concealed the golden cup of the
radiant sun (i.e. the moment, the sunset -- the hour of meditation, arrived), the mew moon-like
eyebrows of the cupbearer (the perfect master) beckoned to the (gnostic) wine to be served [i-e.
he gave a signal: that it was now time for Sultan-i-Azkar, i.e. recitation (sumiran), contemplation
(dhyan), and meditation (bhajan or hearing the Saut-i-Sarmadi)}. O seeker! That person’s
service-prayers (namaz) and humble homage (niyaz) is the best who took to taharat (i.e.
cleanliness and ablution or wazoo) with the water from his eyes (i.e. shedding tears in the silent
remembrance of the master and the Lord) and the blood from his liver (with the spirit of total
withdrawal from the fleshly world; total dedication and devotion to his perfect master, feeling
the pangs of love which consumes his heart and liver). O seeker! What is the (high) price one has
to pay for this priceless, ruby-like (gnostic) wine (that one would savour by attaining to Lahoot
or Musallasi)? That price is to get rid of the core of the dianoetic intellect’ and discursive reason.
O seeker, come on! He who got into this trade, he alone earned the (spiritual) profit. Albeit the
pharisaical preacher looked down upon us (disdainfully), you better come to this (gnostic) tavern
(congregation of our perfect master) and get close to us to see the dignity of our propinquity
(with the perfect master and the almighty Lord) and our (spiritually) exalted rank (jah). O earnest
seeker! Albeit the abode of your heart (full of yearning for the master and the Lord) has become
ruined (depleted) by the ordeal (i.e. fire of your love), the relics of the master’s kind generosity
and love (for you) you can look for in the soul of the lover (i.e. of the saints). My heart, from the
coils of his locks, bought off aashob (anxiety and tension, worry and “apprehension, torment and
torture, conflicts and quarrels) in exchange for my (heart and) soul; I don’t know what gain it
saw in "this transaction, but it struck this bargain (in the hope of its beloved master’s love and
support, and I am sure it got more than it bargained for). O comrade! If today, the imam of the
(Muslim) congregation (the prayer leader in a mosque) were to call (Hafiz), send him the
message that Hafiz (would not come, for) he has taken to taharat with the (gnostic) wine (served
to him by his beloved master, some- thing which the imam shuns and shies away from).
LYRIC 149 (11 VERSES)
1-6." O seeker! You can perceive the mystery of the (seven- ringed golden) cup of Jamshed
(typical of the seven heavens, the seven planets, the seven seas, the seven names of God, the
seven gifts of the spirit, the seven gods of luck, the seven lofty spiritual regions, the seven hells,
the seven joys, the seven sisters, the seven sleepers, the seven Stars, the seven sorrows, the seven
virtues, the seven sages and so on), only when you make the dust of the (perfect master’s) tavern
(congregation) the collyrium for your eyes (i.e. when your eyes become constantly fastened. on
the feet and eyes of the master).” Beggary at the door. of the tavern (perfect master’s
congregation) is a curious elixir, and if you make that (beggary) as your practice, you may
yourself acquire the (spiritual) power to transmute dust (4 despicable, non-descript seeker) into
gold (a perfect sage; see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, para 158). Under this azure heavenly wheel
(charkh-i-kabood), don’t live without the (gnostic) wine (served by the perfect master) and his
minstrel (his disciple-in-chief who sings of his glory and is the principal instrument of
redemption of all the disciples of the master), for by this melody (Saut-i- Sarmadi) to which the
master and his minstrel lead you) you can eject all (worldly) grief from your heart. Dead-set on
undertaking the (arduous) journey of ardent love (for the master), step out (taking long strides); if
you can make this journey, you will make enormous (spiritual) gains. Come, my dear comrade,
by the grace bestowed by those having perception (i.e. the advanced spiritual strivers), you will
be able to plan the strategies and ways to manage your (spiritual) affairs and to develop the zap
and pep needed for appearing before His Majesty: (the perfect master, the spiritual sovereign of

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the entire cosmos or jagat). The rose of your (spiritual) yearning (muraad) will blossom only
when, ‘like the morning zephyr, you would render-service to him [as a mureed does. The
morning zephyr blows only to serve and please the perfect master. O seeker! All that you door do
not do must have only one object to please the master and earn his grace. You can become a
mureed of the murshid only when you become dead or murda to your flesh and to this fleshly
world. Become like a corpse before the master, so that your So called free will leaves you lock,
stock and barrel and you act just as he desires (see Sar Bachan, Part II, op. cit., paras 79 and 80)].
7-11. O seeker! So long as you do not come out of your (constrictive, fluctuating,
tergiversating) temper which is like a serai (given to tergiversation, where thoughts come and go
like the travelers who occupy 2 serai today and make room for other travelers the same or the
next day), how can you pass into the lane of reality or truth (Satt Purush, Haq, the plane of
Hoot)? The eternal beauty of the beloved (master) is not covered by a veil or screen (at all); what
screens it from your sight is the dust of your own fleshly yearnings and longings (trishnas and
vasnas) that you have gathered in your worldly journey; settle that dust (i.e. become quiet, calm,
composed, constant and stable in love for the master and the master alone), So that you may be
able to perceive his mysterium fascinans ; {ibid., paras 109 and 122). O my heart! If you can
receive awareness of the light of penances [i.e. if you are truly informed by the spirit of love
(anurag) and detachment (vairag) from this fleshly world] you will be able to give away your
head (ego and I-ness) in the wise of a laughing candle(whose head burns out amid light and
laughter; ibid., para 153).But, then, if you really desire the lips of your beloved (i.e. if you love
his discourses sweeter than which there is nothing, for which see ibid., para 179) and if you
desire the cup of (gnostic) wine (i.e. if you have made recitation of the Great Name and Sultan-
al-Azkar as the be-all and end-all of your existence), don’t stick to any greed for doing any other
(worldly) business (ibid., para 131). O Hafiz ! If you prick up your cars to this royal counsel
(offered by the kings of gnosis), you can make it to the path of gnosis (i.e. you would have
attained to the supreme divine abode, the La Makaan, beyond Hoot).

LYRIC 150. (8 VERSES)

1-8. O seeker ! Come on, for the (ferocious) Turk (i.e. Satan) of the sphere (falak), has pillaged
and plundered the dinner-table of those observing fast (roza or vrat, which in gnosis, means to
plight one’s ‘word to' the command of the perfect master, for which refer to Sar Bachan, Prose,
Part II, para 54), so that the new moon (the perfect master) has beckoned towards the circling
rounds of cup of (gnostic) wine (i.e. he has signaled to us that we take to recitation,
contemplation and meditation).
The spiritual merit (sawaab) and God’s acceptance of hajj (pilgrimage, which in gnosis, means
the company of the master and his sage-like. disciples, for which see ibid.) is attained by him
who has performed the pilgrimage of the dust of the tavern of ardent love (the living master’s
company).
Our fountainhead (asli maqaam) is the corner of the (gnostic) tavern (the assembly hall of the
company and the congregation of the perfect living master); may God bestow His goodly, godly
gifts on him who has erected it.
In the curve of those arch-like eyebrows (i.e. in the nukta- i-sveda located at the terminal of the
nasal bone between the two eyebrows, three-fourth of an inch inside, the aperture leading to
Alam- i-Jabroot and Lahoot), only he can perform the service-prayer (namaz) who has taken to
taharat (ablution and cleanliness) with the blood of his liver (i.e. who has died to his flesh, before
death).

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 (Look at) the imam of the city who had put the prayer-mat (sajjada) on his shoulder (to exhibit
and parade his identity as imam), and more, for he washed his clothes in the blood of the
daughter of grape (wine, i.e. he had drunk his fill).
And yet the crafty, cunning and wily eye of the sheikh (imam) of the city has looked down
(disdainfully) upon the quaffers of dregs (the gnostic wine); I lament and cry for justice.
O seeker! Fasten your eyes on the (glorious and effulgent) face of the beloved (master) and give
thanks (for your good fortune); the whole job of the eye, allotted by God, is to see and to
perceive (the reality of) everything, every one. (One of the most wonderful things in nature is a
glance of the eye; it transcends speech; it is the bodily symbol of identity. The balls of the eye
are so formed that one man’s eyes are spectacles to another, to read his heart with. The eye
speaks with an eloquence and truthfulness surpassing speech. It is the window out of which the
winged thoughts often fly unwittingly. The eye is the pulse of the soul, the window of the soul.
The eye of the master docs more work than both his hands. Lovers are angry, reconciled, entreat,
thank, appoint, and finally speak all things with their eyes. Eyes are bold as lions roving,
running, leaping here and there, far and near. They speak all languages; wait for no introduction,
ask no leave of age or rank; respect neither poverty nor riches, neither learning nor power,
neither virtue nor sex, but intrude, and come again and go through and through you in a moment
of time. What inundation of life and thought is discharged from one soul into another through
them! Of course, there are some eyes as vacant as blue berries, while others are as deep as a well
which you can fall into. The master’s eyes are homes of silent prayer and silent acceptance.)
O seeker! Hear the account of ardour of love from Hafiz,’ not from the (pharisaical) preacher,
notwithstanding all the craft that he has introduced in his expression (glibness, rhetoric,
embellishment, spiel; patter, cant, euphemism, blarney, lard, effusion and riposte).

LYRIC 151 (7 VERSES)

1-7. A certain bulbul (here it means a fond father) drank the blood of his liver (waited
expectantly for the birth of a son) and eventually got a rose (a beautiful son); the wind of
modesty (feeling of humility at his success) made him anxious (for his safety and long life) in a
hundred ways.

The heart of the parrot (here, the: father, i.e. Hafiz himself) was joyous in love with the sweet
child; the sudden onset of flood-of death falsified (effaced) the trace of his hopes (i.e. the child
died).

That fruit of my heart was the apple of my eye; would that he remembers that while he himself
has easily departed (without fuss), he has made my (spiritual) mission more difficult.

O cameleer [the disciple-in-chief of the perfect master, for which refer to Sar Bachan, Prose, Part
II, para 14: “In the hand of the cameleer, there is the string or rein of only one camel, Behind him
thousands trail, one after the other. Likewise, the disciple-in-chief is only one, but by his
charisma a great many jivas (sentient beings) get across”’ (the ocean of this fleshly world)] My
load(i.e. my son) has fallen down; for the sake of God, help me, for my hope in your Compassion
has made me companion of the pack-saddle (which was placed over the back of the camel and
from which that load of mine has fallen down).

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Don’t disgrace my dust laden face (laden with the dust of grief and suffering) and the moisture
(tears) of my eyes (i.e. O master! Relieve me from gloom and depression, and public ridicule at
my plight); the azure, traversing sky (i.e. the satanic force) has plastered its revelrous assembly
by this mud (the mixture of the dust settled on my face and the water flowing from my tearful
eyes, i.e. the worldlings are sneering and jeering at me at my ordeal, by their barks, saying how
could your master fail to save the life of your son).

Alas, [cry for mercy at my wretchedness, for under the evil, envious eye of the moon and the sun
(the small and big worldlings), my moon (son) who had moonlike eyebrows, had departed for the
destination of the grave.

O Hafiz! On the chessboard of life, you did not move your king (i.e. you did not seek your
master’s Intercession), and thwarted your prospects (i.e. missed the bus); what shall I do, for the
time’s tricky game had made me oblivious and forgetful.

LYRIC 152 (8 VERSES)

1-8. My fate does not give me a clue to the mouth of my beloved (master; i.e. my bad luck does
not let me enter into the mysterious meanings of my master’s discourses); his lofty spiritual
citadel (from which he speaks) does not give me a scent (khabar) of his hidden mysteries (see
Sar Bachan, Prose, Part I, op. cit., para 48; and Part II, Paras 29, 195 and 203).

For the sake of one kiss from his lips (i.e. for just one divine impulse from him), I give away. my
life ; but, then, he neither allows me to plant one kiss on his lips, nor does he himself Kiss me
(i.e. he is so stingy in the matter of gnosis, that he never imparts it to me at my importunity, nor
does he liberally allow me to partake of it, at his own).

I am dying of my anxious wait and there is no way to get inside his veil (i.e. his Divine mystery)
or may be that there is a way, to which that veiled one does not give a clue.

I know that at long last, sugar (union with my master) will come to(my) hand by patience (which
is the key to the resolution of all knots) but the bad faith of time does not let me live in peace (so
that I become impatient, anxious and worried at the prospects of my union with my beloved
master who eludes me ever and anon).

The morning zephyr (predawn meditation) drew his locks of hair (i.e. drew his attention towards
me) but, then, look at the trick of bad faith of time (i.e. my f bad luck) which has made it airtight
and does not allow me any space even if I become as abstracted and subtle as air (i.e. neither by
my gross body, nor by my subtle or causal body I can get close to the divine mystery of my
beloved master).

Like a pair of compasses, (with two pointed arms, joined at one end, one arm of which serves as
a pivot or stationary reference point, while the other is extended to describe a circle), one arm of
mine (i.e. my intellect) may keep on moving to any extent, but the other arm of mine (my self-
consciousness) remains installed at the stationary reference point (ego) and the cycle of time
does not allow me to get into the circle (the gnostic mystery of my beloved master so that I
remain peripheral in relation to my beloved master).

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I offer my life in exchange for just one kiss on his lips (just one glimpse of his inner mystery);
and he at once gets to know of my inner longing for kissing his lips, but he doesn’t give me his
word of honour (i.e. does not promise that he would allow me to kiss his lips at some future
date).

My heart said: “I must go to sleep so that (at least) in dream I could perceive the (bewitching)
beauty of my beloved (master)." But then look at this crazy Hafiz, whose sobs and sighs, moan
and groan, do not give me any respite (and do not even let me sleep).

LYRIC 153 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Will it ever happen that (the saints) would open agape the doors of the (gnostic) tavern (for
every ardent seeker to get in, i.e. will the master’s congregation become open to all?); will they
open the knots tied on our (spiritual) work [i.e. will they untie the riots of gross matter ( jad) with
spirit (chaitanya) which have engrossed our souls in lust]?

O earnest seeker ! If they have closed the door (of their spiritual tavern) on the hearts of the self-
focusing (conceited and vainglorious) abstinents, you must keep your heart firm in the conviction
and faith that they would, in the service of God, definitely fling open the gate (of their Spiritual
tavern, i.e. congregation to the genuine gnostics; cf. Sar Bachan, Poetry, Volume II, Soami
Bagh, Agra, Discourse 33, Hymn 19, 33-34, edition 1978: “I cry before the supreme master and
implore him to proclaim the santmat or the mystic faith and make it open to all’).

O Lord! They (the saints) have closed the door of the (spiritual) tavern? Tell them: ‘‘My saints,
my ambassadors on earth! I don’t like it, and I don’t like that they (the agents of Satan, the
charlatans and the pharisaics) open the doors of wiles and guiles, cunning and craftiness, fraud
and foulness, oppression and forcible conversions (tazweer-o-riya).”

O comrades! On the demise of the pomegranate-like (gnostic) wine (i.e. on the ban that the
powers-that-be imposed on genuine gnostic practices) scissor the hairs (strings) of your violin
(i.e. ego and lust so that you may hear the sound of the violin in Hahoot) so that all the (gnostic)
buds (awaiting their blossoming by the artistry of the perfect gardener or living master) may
open up their locks of hair twice over (may become humble and even more ardent, bolder and
courteous in their fervent prayers and implorations to the perfect master to fling open the gates of
his congregation to all and sundry).

O you earnest seekers who become dead to your flesh by dint of the predawn (gnostic) drinks,
under the urge of the purity of the hearts of the inebriated gnostics, they (the perfect living
master and his elect) would open the bolted doors (of the spiritual tavern) by the key of
implorations (of the ardent spiritual seekers).

Meanwhile, O seekers, write out the obituary (taazyat nameh) in the honour of the daughter of
grape (the gnostic wine), so that all her admirers and lovers may shed (tears of) blood for their
eyelashes (cry in anguish to meet the hearts of the master and his elect).

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O Hafiz! Be sure that you will see this khirga (the fraudulent, deceptive smoke-screen of the
pharisaical Sufis) tomorrow and you will also see how many nullifidian girdles (the so-called
sacred thread) they would forcibly open from underneath his Sufi’s mantle [i.e. the skeletons in
the cupboards of the Sufis will show you to what low (nadir) this cockalorum can stoop to parade
his religiosity which hides their past scandalous and lewd life].

Lyric 154 (10 Verses)

1-10. After all this, there would be my hand and the skirt of that (spiritually) lofty cypress-like
(master) who by his coyish, proud sauntering has extirpated me (uprooted me).

(O lovely, majestic master!) I don’t need the minstrel and the (gnostic) wine (at this critical
juncture; what TI badly need is that) you may kindly lift (open) the veil, so that the fire
(ravishing beauty) of your (resplendent) countenance may make me whirl and dance (move
rhythmically) like a burning black seasame grain (i.e. so that I may skip and leap as in joy).

No face can be a mirror of good fortune save the face which is rubbed against the cloven hoof of
that magnificent steed (the perfect living master, i.e. if a striver wants his face to become a
mirror of spiritual exaltation, he must rub his face in utter humility on the feet of the perfect
master).

O master! I have implored you to disclose to me the mystery of your weariness (from this world),
whatever that maybe; I cannot wait longer than this. What shall I do? and how long (shall I
wait) ?
O hunter, (the forces of conventionalism and obsolescent rituals, hostile to the master whose
gnosis is like a red rag to the. bull)! Don’t kill (i.e. don’t vex) my musky deer (my spiritually
fragrant master); have some shame (i.e. feel small and humble) at those black (attractive) eyes,
and don’t seek to entangle him in your noose.

I am of the earth (earthy), the one who cannot rise from this door (of the master) ; how can ‘I
then think of planting a kiss on the lips of the one who, lives in that (spiritually) lofty mansion?

(O lovely master!) The heart of your lover has no longing except for your (beauteous) locks of
hair (in the coils of which I wish to become a captive); woe betide the heart that does not pick up
a lesson from hundreds of such captivities.

That lover who has lost his heart to you, and has lost heart (become despondent and dejected),
day and night, says in his humble solicitations: May God so ordain that the afflictions of the
changing time do not harm your majestic (spiritual) stature.

O sceptic ! Hear the fresh and heart-captivating (dilkush) lyrics of Hafiz; if he has attained to any
sense about perfection (of lyricism and love) he would not outpour his own lyrics in Khajand
(the city famous for its beauteous beloveds).

O Hafiz! Don’t, withdraw your heart from the beloved master’s musky locks of hair; only that
crazy (lover) is excellent and lucky, who is ever behind bars (in the love prison of his beloved).

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LYRIC 155 (14 VERSES)
1-7. I have such an idol (beloved master whom I worship) roundabout whose rose (cheeks), the
liliaceous plant (the master’s lock of hair) has installed its canopy; the rosy glow of his
countenance holds a letter (of testimony) of its having shed the blood of syringa persica
(arghwaan, i.e. the rosy face of my beloved has effaced, put to shame, the rosiness. of syringa
persica).

Even the (attractive) stripe of the hair of his has not been able to conceal his radiant, sun-like
face! O Lord! Confer upon him eternal life, for his beauty is perennial and everlasting.

When I became his (i.e. my master’s) lover, I said to myself, “I have attained to the core of my
(spiritual) quest”; (at that time) I did not quite know what bottomless depth and unbounded
billows this ocean (of love) has!

O bulbul (ardent lover of the master)! If the rose (your master were to give you a charming
smile, don’t become entrapped in his (fascinating) snare; this because, there can be no reliance
on the rose (the saint) even though his beauty is sturdy and youthful (i.e. even though he is a
spiritual stalwart). (As an Indian sage put it : Raja, yogi, agni, jal, inki ult reet; bachte rahiyo
Parshuram, ye thodi Paalein Preet- “The King, yogi fire and water have a way of life, reverse of
what you find elsewhere O Parshuram, always be cautious of them, for they are not attached to
anyone or anything.’’)

O Police Inspector! for the sake of God, adjudicate my affair with him (i.e. my master) who
drank (gnostic) wine with others (my rivals) but is observing utter indifference towards me. (O
master!)

If you entertain hope of (divine) favour, you also fulfill my hope (and do me the favour of your
love), for your stature has the (magnificent) style of cypress and your ruby (like) lips have a
delicious flavour, dear to my soul.

When he (my master) sweeps the trap of his lock of hair off the dust of the heart of his lover, by
his ogle, he asks the zephyr: “Keep this secret hidden (i.e. don’t tell my lover that I have dusted
my lock of hair and removed the dust of his heart from my locks).”
8-14.

(O master!) If you cherish the hope of union with Him (God), then you also assure me
with your guarantee against your Separation from me; may God keep you safe from the eye of
those who have ill-will] (hostile feelings),

O comrade! I wonder as to what is there lying on this way (to my master), that every
Sultan of (gnostic) meaning (core, i.e. even the most earnest gnostic sage and saint) I find in this
sanctuary (of my master), laying his head on his door-sill.

O master! If you bind (your lovers) with the hunter’s bag, for the sake of God, also make
a prey of me, for delay means denial and distress which frustrates the seeker.

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 (O master!) Don’t deprive my eyes of the sight of your cypress-like stature which is so
agreeable to my heart; fasten my gaze on the fountainhead (of your Spiritual, lofty heights), for it
contains limpid, running water (continually flowing from your soul, which is the fountainhead of
all gnosis, gnostic impulses and revelations).

O master! From (the shafts of) your eyes my life cannot escape, for I witness that in all
directions they are in ambuscade, with the arrows fitted to the bows (i.e. your beauteous eyes
ever pull me towards. the nukta-i-sveda, the portal to the Lord’s abode).

(O spiritual Sultan!) Shed a draughtful (of gnostic wine, i.e. a bit of your gnostic
luminescence) on the earth (i.e. on these vulgar worldlings) and see the state of those who
(formerly) wielded power and awe, for this dust (of fleeting samsara) has hidden in its archives
thousands of tales of Jamsheds and Kaikhusrocs.

What apologies and regrets can I tender on behalf of my ill-luck that that master of mine
who has taken the entire city by storm and over- whelmed and enthralled everyone around, has
killed (unnerved) Hafiz by his harshness and yet he talks so mellifluously?

LYRIC 156 (9 VERSES)

1-9. In respect of his (spiritual) beauty and good manners (righteous disposition) nobody comes
up to the (lofty) level of my beloved master (i.e. none equals him or meets his standards and
norms). In respect of this point (of which I talked). O pharisaic, you get no title (right) to dispute
and interfere in our spiritual devotion (to our perfect master of the age).

Although the sellers of their (supposedly spiritual) beauty (i.e. the charlatans, and the pretenders)
have come to display (like cockalorums) their feathers, none comes up to our beloved master in
respect of (spiritual) beauty and grace.

I swear by the obligation of my ancient companionship with him, that no knower of divine
mystery comes up anywhere near to our beloved (master) who is totally concentrated on Haq
(the Truth or Satt Purush, the deity of Hoot).

In the market of creation, a thousand cash coins (saints and sages) have come into circulation,
but none of them comes up to the level (spiritual depth, credibility and universal acceptance) of
our reliable friend who is pure (gnostic) gold (straight from Hoot, the vice-regent of Huq).
Alas, the caravans of time have passed away and with such a clear break that ‘even their dust
(their relics and remnants, their sermons and preachings which were so relevant and pertinent
then, but have become irrelevant in the context of marching time) does not come up to the level
of the breeze that is now blowing in our land (i.e. the level of the qutb-ul-waqt and qutb-ul-
aqtoob, i.e. “the master of the age”, and ‘the master of masters” or “the pole of poles’’).

By the pen of artistry, a thousand prints are formed (i.e. God’s artistry sends a thousand
attractive saints and sages to earth) but not one of them comes up to the fascination of our
beloved master of the age, who bewitches the heart and casts a spell on all earnest seekers.

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O my heart! Don’t be grieved by the taunts and jeers of the enviers, and remain tranquil, for in
our expectant and hopeful heart no dust of despair (evil) reaches.

O comrade! Live (your life in this world) in a wise that even if you become the dust of the path,
nobody comes to any harm from the dust of our path (i.e. set up unique standards of humility).
[cf. Kabir who in about half-a- dozen verses sums up the essence of humility: “The aspirant
should try to reduce himself to the level of a pebble on the road, destroying his ego, his lust, his
attachment and avarice, desires and longings. But no! A pebble can cause trouble to a pilgrim
and, therefore, the genuine aspirant must raze himself to dust. But, then, that also will not do, for
dust is bound to fly and trouble the pilgrims. A genuine sage is he who transforms himself into
harmless water. Oh! But that also is not satisfactory for water becomes hot and cold and may be
a nuisance to a passer-by. The seeker should become all-pervasive like the immanent God
(Hari). But, that too is inadequate, for Hari is the doer and the redeemer. A real sage should only
recite the name of the Lord and become absolutely pure. But alas, even that is nothing for even
the impure will ask for accommodation within the parameters of purity and impurity. The real
sadhu is one who has risen above this pair of opposites.’’ Elsewhere Kabir says: ‘Where there is
ego, there will be endless affliction; where there is doubt, there will be grief. These four diseases
can be rooted out only through humility. What always flows down and stays here can never stay
up. The one who is thirsty has to bend down to the level of water in order to quench his thirst;
one who keeps his head raised up will remain thirsty.’’]

O comrade! Hafiz is incinerated and I fear lest the key to his story (of burning out) should fail to
reach the ears of my (spiritually) triumphant king (my beloved master).

LYRIC 157 (9 VERSES)

1-9. (O spiritual striver!) Come, for the ensign of “Mansoor- like king (the perfect saint
who could say like Mansoor: “Anal Haq!”—“I am Haq!’") has arrived; the glad tidings of
(spiritual) triumph and perception have reached the sun and the moon (even the regions of
Malkoot are in jubilation at the manifestation of the perfect master). The beauty of fate (i.e. good
fortune) has cast “aside the veil (cover of secrecy) from the face of victory (i.e. the strivers are
celebrating their spiritual victory in the open, without the fear of any harassment from the
devilish forces); the perfection of discernment (adI, the quality to discern the fake from the fair,
the right-from the wrong) has informed the cry for justice raised by the justice-seekers. The
traversal of the sphere (i.e. the turns and twists of the cycle of time) would now be better (not
arbitrary but equitable), for now the (radiant) moon (the path-shower, the beacon light) has come
(out of eclipse); now that the (real spiritual) king has appeared, this (phenomenal) world has
become a place where the seeking hearts can attain to the object of their quest. The caravans of
heart and head (dil-o-daanish, i.e. those who follow the path of love and those that pursue the
way of jnan) would now be safe and secure from the brigands (the charlatans) who infest the
gnostic path, for now the valiant path guide (mard-i-rah) has taken charge. It is as if the darling
of Egypt, Joseph, has come out of the depth of the pit of humiliation dug for him by his brothers,
the giaours (the unfaithful, the charlatans), and has ascended to the lofty height of the full moon
(which one beholds in the region of Hahoot or Sunn). Where is that (pharisaical) Sufi with the
deceptive look of the antichrist (dajjaal, the Man of Sin) and with the (repulsive) face of an
apostate (mulhid)? Tell him to incinerate himself, for the Mahdi (Muslim Messiah), the Refuge
of the Faith (gnosis, i.e. the perfect gnostic master), has arrived. O zephyr! Apprise him (the

119
perfect master) as to what came to pass on my head, out of the affliction caused by this love of
mine for him, and from the furious fire of my burning heart (burning in sepatation from him) and
from the lightning strokes of my sobs and sighs (that emitted from my broken heart). O my
sweetheart (my lovely master)! From my longing for your (beauteous) countenance, what came
to pass on this captive of separation (from you), is that which comes to pass on the leaf of grass
from the fire. O seeker! Don’t go to sleep, for Hafiz has reached the sanctuary of acceptance (by
the perfect master) through the midnightly meditation (Sultan-al-Azkar) and the morning
recitation (of the Great Name). [Likewise, O seeker, keep awake in the night, in the company of
the living master, for it yields very rich (spiritual) fruits; cf. Sar Bachan, Poetry, Volume II, op.
cit., Discourse 41, Hymn 11, pp. 456-57: “Guru sang jaagan ka phal bhaari...’”|
LYRIC 158 (7 VERSES)
1-7. ‘(O comrade! I reveal to you a secret :) Last night violet (banafshaa or earnest
striver) spoke to the rose (advanced devotee) and gave him a very good clue saying : “The locks
of hair of such-and- such (i.e. that perfect master) has lent lustre (taab) to me in this world.” (O
master!) My heart that was the storehouse of (mystic) secrets, the hand of Divine dispensation
(qaza) had locked its door, and handed over its key to a heart ravisher. Like a broken-hearted
lover, I have come to your sanctuary, for a physician (the knower of your healing skill) has given
me a little hint of the mummy (the marvelous healing balm that can set a fractured bone) of your
grace (which can reunite me with my source from which I am sundered). O (pretentious)
counsellor! Be gone and heal thyself (before you seek to heal me)! [You are asking me to
forsake the gnostic wine, the beloved (perfect master) and the cupbearer! I counter question
you:] “Who has ever come to harm by (gnostic), wine, the beloved (perfect master) and the
(gnostic) cupbearer?” He whose hand of justice and munificence has ever given relief and
succour to a weakling, his body is wholesome, his heart is in the right place (kind, thoughtful and
generous) and his heart and soul (completely) happy. He (my beloved master) passed by me his
miserable lover—and said to my rivals: How regrettable! Wherefore has this miserable lover of
mine given away his life?” O master! By the blessings of his ardent love for you, the chest
(khazeena) of jewels of (divine) mysteries contained in the heart of Hafiz has passed on (to the
world) the (spiritual) capital of a life-time (spent in this world).
LYRIC 159 (7 VERSES)
1-7. The messenger of the morning zephyr (the Divine impulse experienced in morning
meditation) gave me the news yesterday that the day of ordeal and suffering has turned its face
away from some- body. As a reward for the glad tidings which the morning breeze has brought, I
would give away my garment of righteousness to the morning minstrels (who would urge me
towards Sultan-al-Azkar and hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi). In the course (path) of love (devotion to
the master), the fragrance of your locks of hair (your divine impulse): has acted as our Khidr path
guide); what a delightful, knowledgeable comrade indeed, whom my good luck has made my
fellow-traveler | O| comrade, come, come, for he (my beloved master) has fetched from the
celestial garden a pure drink to this phenomenal world for the sake of slaking the (spiritual) thirst
of his fellow-traveler (i.e. me; see the Koran, LXXVI, 76)! O my comrade! Endeavour (offer
prayers for me) for doing good to (i.e. for the purification of) my heart, for the wooden cup (the
pretence of Sufi) has induced lot of frustrations into my (spiritually) royal crown (i.e. for my
spiritual destiny). Whenever my heart remembered the cheeks of that moon camping in that
canopy (of Hahoot), innumerable sighs ‘and sobs emitting from my heart (in his remembrance)
have reached his (master’s camp). When Hafiz offered his solicitations before the royal, imperial

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court (of his master), he lifted the (spiritual) insignia of that victorious (Mansoor) to the lofty
heaven (for everyone to watch and perceive).

LYRIC 160 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O my Maker! What sort of mushgala (contemplation and meditation, Sultan-al-Azkar or
Shagal Naseera) it was in the pre-dawn hours in the tavern (of my beloved master), that my
beloved (master), the cupbearer (his disciple-in-chief), the candle (of gnosis) and its flames
(Divine impulses), were on the boil (seething in excitement of ecstasy)? (See Sar Bachan,
Poetry, Volume I, op. cit. “Hidayat Namah’’, pp. 384-85.)

The activity of ardent love (hadith-i-ishq) which is unconcerned with letter (spoken word) and
articulation (voice or saut) was in zap (kharosh) and pep (walwala) on account of the cries from
tenor drum (the inarticulate sound of Lahoot) and the flute (reed, bansuri, the inarticulate sound
of Hootal Hoot, the Rotating Cave).

The discussions that went on in that circle (halqa) of craze and ardent passion (diwangi) were
wholly outside the gamut of the school. (madrasa or scholastics) and (the vain and dreary,
discursive) arguments and counter-arguments hairsplitting (shastra-rth), argument (gee), and
counter-argument (qeel)| and beyond the range of what they call problematic (i.e. talking of a
proposition or judgment that may, or may not be true—masla).

My heart was engaged in. thanksgiving to the charisma (spiritual halo) of the cupbearer, although
because of the inauspiciousness of fate, it (my heart) was complaining and grumbling a little.
Then, I speculated and made a guess about (my master’s) magical eyes that were ecstatic, and I
found that a thousand sorcerers like Samiri were grumbling and grudging (feeling envious of his
aura and charisma; see the Koran, XX, 85-97).

I said to him (to the beloved: master): “Favour me. with a kiss on your lips (i.e. speak to me of
your Divine mystery).” He replied : “When was this issue (of your kissing my lips) ever settled
between you and me ?’’
O comrade! My star (luck) fastened its gaze on his (master’s) auspicious eye, and perhaps for
this reason there was a trial of strength between the moon (which struck me with the arrow of
love) and the (beauteous) visage of my beloved master (and my master won hands down—
without effort and easily— which is very auspicious for me).

By their charisma, those two eyes (of my beloved master) took the entire city by storm
(overwhelmed and enthralled), so that from the assemblage of those who had lost their hearts to
him, were rising complaints and rumbles in a thousand ways (at my beloved master’s
indifference towards his bewildered lovers who were all agog).

The mouth of my beloved (master) which had inside of it the cure for the pain (of love) of Hafiz
was found lamentably wanting (tung) when it was time for it to show me favour (by allowing me
to kiss it, i.e. by giving me an opportunity of hearing his mellifluous discourse).

LYRIC 161 (144 VERSES)

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1-7. Whosoever got the sweet scent (of your majestic spiritual discourse) from the zephyr; he
pricked up his ears to listen to the discourses of the well-known beloved (master).

My grateful heart (ever grateful to the beloved master) did not merit this punishment that it
should have to hear from his own sympathetic (ghamgusaar) Friend, harsh words which he did
not merit and deserve.
O king of (spiritual) beauty! Cast your (favourable) eye on the plight of this beggar (lover), for
his ears have heard many (gnostic) parables about the king (the beloved perfect master) and the
beggars (his lovers), (and he knows how considerate the masters have been to their ardent
lovers).

With the musky (gnostic) wine (discourses) I please (gladden). the quintessence of my soul (i.e.
my surat, the Divine impulse in me), for it (i.e. my surat) has smelt the foul scent of duplicity
and deceit from the, wearers of khirqa who infest the temples of worship (i.e. from the wily and
guileful Sufis).
The Divine mystery which the gnostic seeker has never revealed to anyone, I wonder from whom
the (filthy) sellers of (gnostic) wine (i.e. who are not genuine gnostics but only trade in gnosis to
earn money, name and fame) have heard of (that Divine mystery).
As for us, it is not only today that we are quaffing .the (gnostic) wine hiding it inside our khirqa;
indeed, the master (pir) of the (gnostic) tavern has heard of this tale a hundred times in the past
(i.e. we have been practicing genuine gnosis, in hiding though, for a long time; this is not
something new today).
O Lord! Where shall I find a confidant of my (divine secrets), before whom, even for a moment,
I could wear my heart on my sleeve to tell him what (beauteous inner form of my master) I
perceived in my meditation (or dhyan) and what (heart-captivating Saut-i-Sarmadi) I heard (in
my contemplation or Shaghl-i-Sultan-al-Azkar).

8-14. In accompaniment with the (inarticulate) sound (aahat shabd) of violin (one hears in
Hahvot or Sunn) it is not only today that we are quaffing (the gnostic) wine (i.e. ecstatically
absorbed in Shagl-i-Sultan-al-Azkar), although it is long since under the dome of this sky none
has heard of this sound (Sauw-i-Sarmadi).
O cupbearer (perfect master), come, for none other than ardour of love (ishq) has. raised its voice
(i.e. calling you) ; whosoever has spoken (to you) of our (gnostic) tale, he has heard of it only
from us (for none other can have a scent of it).
The counsel of the perfect, absolute (physician, the perfect master, who is a panacea for all ills
that can afflict a gnostic seeker) is absolutely right and merits respectful, reverent hearing and
compliance, for it is unadulterated goodness; on him who acquiesces in it without protest, lady
luck smiles.
What I (his ardent lover) said, he (the beloved master) did not hear, and left it is rather odd
(queerish and Strange), for I have heard that the king (the perfect master) always listens to the
account of the beggars (his lover’s) plight.
If I remained deprived of his lane (his loving attention and tendresse), what of it? For who has
ever smelt of (i.e. experienced) fidelity from the rose-garden of (the inconstant) Time?
Every evening the northerly wind (Boreas) has narrated my story and the tale of my (sickly,
wounded) heart; every morning zephyr (westerly wind) has heard of my story and of my heart’s

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tale (i.e. every evening and morning I and my heart have been imploring the beloved master to
show us his favour and grace).
As it is, O Hafiz, your fixed and regular assignment (wazeefa) is to offer prayer and solicitation;
let it not be fettered (befouled and falsified) by the rumination whether he (the perfect master)
has heard of it or ‘not (i.e. your function is to pray and not to bother about the master’s
acceptance of your prayer. If he considers it to be necessary for your spiritual good, he would
accept it; if not, that too would be for your spiritual good of which you are not aware).

LYRIC 162 (11 VERSES)

1-6. I am chewing the cud (reflecting and thinking over) the possibility of taking up a work in
my hand so as to get rid of my irritation (annoyance and anger).

The theatre of heart is no place for keeping company with Strangers (aliens); it is only when the
devil (one alien to the perfect master, i.e. all the Satanic tendencies and diabolical proclivities
like lust, anger, greed, attachments and delusions, ego, jealously and envy, doubts and
suspicions, finding faults in others, having windmills in the head and fighting with them) gets out
of it (the heart) that the angel (the beloved master and the impulse of divinity) gets in.

(O spiritual striver!) The company of (worldly) rulers (officers and men in power) is like the
darkness of night (i.e. it induces darkness,. avidya and delusion and illusions, lust for power and
money, name and fame) ; (if you want spiritual effulgence) ask for it from the (refulgent) sun
(i.e. the perfect living master); may be that you attain to it.

How long will you wait at the doors of the worldlings who are devoid of sympathy (pity,
compassion, affinity, harmony and fellow-feeling) waiting for the Khwaja (the rich and the
powerful) to come out (to hear of your plight)?

O seeker! Pass by (i.e. escape) this baneful workshop of the phenomenal world; which is not
only banal but more, venomous than poison; be sure that (just as every dark night is followed by
the radiant dawn), once again the days, sweet and pleasant as sugar, would come (i.e. the perfect
master would become manifest once again, for he is ever present on the earth, and the earnest
seeker, who is awfully thirsty and yearns for him, will always attain to him; hence persevere
steadfastly, for patience is the key to resolution of all knots).

The righteous (saaleh) and the villainous (taaleh) i.e. the true master and the charlatan, spiritual
quack have displayed their respective goods; let us see which one finds (universal) acceptance
and what appeals to the eye (of those who can perceive those goods).

7-11. O bulbul, the lover (the ardent spiritual seeker)! Pray for long life and persevere steadfastly
all your life, for at long last, the garden (of your hope and spiritual longing) would become
verdant and the ruby-like rose (the perfect master wearing the red colour of Lahoot) would
himself come to your door (i.e. if one is thirsty, let him augment his thirst, so that the well of
limpid water of life would itself come to the thirsty).

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O seeker! Patience and success are two ancient comrades; (they share the same camara or room;
where there is one, the other is inevitably there) ; as an effect of patience, success takes its turn
(i.e. turns its face towards you). In a situation (maqaam or ordeal) where steadfast perseverance
(tawwkkul) is required, there is nothing better for me than to endure in patience, so that. the
phase (umr) of ordeals (affliction) may pass away.

O spiritual wayfarer ! Don’t abandon beggary (humility, patience, love and. devotion, fasting,
contentment, remembrance of God _ and penances) for with it in your possession, you will
stumble upon (spiritual) treasure, by the favourable eye of a path-guide (a spiritual seer or saint
who perceives what you cannot perceive), whom you will sight one of those days).

In this caravan serai, the oblivion (of the world, forgetfulness regarding worldly affairs, or
ghaflat) of Hafiz is not at all surprising, for he that turned to the (gnostic) tavern (sanctuary of
the perfect master), returned wholly unaware (unconscious or bekhabar) of this phenomenal
world.

LYRIC 163 (5 VERSES)

1-5. Once again, the moon-like checks of a full moon (perfect saint) came to my view;
out of the (splendorous) countenance of that moon (the emblem of Hahoot), refulgent sun
(emblem of Hootal Hoot, the Rotating Cave) emerged (i.e. the spiritual pull of that perfect saint
brought me in full view of Hootal Hoot). My crazy heart once again got carried (i.e. lost self-
control), and this time it became unburdened of the burden of its own work (i.e. in spiritual
ecstasy, I became besides myself, becoming totally unconscious of my I-ness, ego, and worldly
cares). On the bend of his (i.e. my beloved master’s) eyebrows, I cast my eye only once, and by
that one, single glimpse, a hundred arrows of afflictions darted upon me. It is queerish that when
today I beheld his. moon-like visage, it looked to me far more beauteous than on other days (i.e.
today he wore a specially heart-ravishing appearance, which captivated me and made me
spellbound). (O beloved master!) Hafiz made a great many importunities and. implorations for
union with you but, at long last, in pain of separation (from you) lie fell down (collapsed, proved
unsuccessful and failed).

LYRIC 164 (11- VERSES)

1-5. In my old age (which is a tyrant who forbids, on penalty of life, all the love-pleasures of
youth) the love for a young beauty (my youthful beloved master) has possessed my wits; the
secret which I sought to conceal (from everyone) became exposed (for love and cough cannot be
hid). (Even in the young, as love increases, prudence diminishes, for never self-possessed or
prudent, love is all abandonment. No disguise can long conceal love where it is, nor feign it
where it is not. And the worst thing an old man can do is to love and become a lover.)

The fowl of my heart has taken wing through the passageway of my eyes (i.e. 1 came, I saw, and
I was conquered by my master and in the process I lost my heart that flew and took wing). O my
eyes! See in whose trap you have become ensnared!

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What a pity that under the impulsion of that musky deer with black eyes, in the wise of the navel
(of the musk deer which contains musk) a great deal of my heart’s blood has trickled into my
liver (anciently supposed to be the seat of love, so that I am no coward, no white or lily-livered
but I am a steadfast lover).

(Not that, to this love affair with my master, I had had no initiative; I fell in love, foolishly
though, at my own accord, exercising my option freely, for) on whomsoever God offered His
burden of grief to be caused by His trust (whether the heavens, the earth -and the hills), he shrank
from bearing it and all were afraid of it; so that eventually this calamity befell man [who
assumed it (sec the holy Koran, XXXVII, 72 and Mathnawi Rumi, Volume VI, Verse 217); and
in this, of course, he proved himself to be an oppressor and an idiot. In accepting this burden, he
did not weigh his worth and examine his capacity of forbearance, for immediately after accepting
that trust, he began to defy God’s ordainment and turned hyper- critical and idol-worshipper
which earned him God’s retribution. It was then that he realized his worthlessness and began to
seek God’s pardon and turned a believer. And to believe God is ever forgiving, merciful. (ibid.,
73)! And so Hafiz says that in becoming the lover of my beloved master, I assumed an
unbearable burden and acted foolishly and beyond the limits of my forbearance.

Every navel (of musk) which fell into the hands of the morning zephyr was (not from a deer but
it was) from the dust of the path to your lane, O beloved master!

(O beloved master!) When your eyelashes unsheathed the world-conquering sword (i.e. when
you cast a killing, bewitching glance), many a martyr otherwise hale and hearty (i.e. lively,
warm, vigorous and enthusiastic), fell head over heels in love and fell over each other (in a bid to
excel each other in displaying their love for you).

Who has distilled and seasoned this (gnostic) whisky, for the distiller of this tavern (of my
beloved master) was carried away by its celestial fragrance.

In this abode of tit-for-tat and blow-for-blow, we have tried the operation of this norm a good
deal, and we found that whosoever fell foul of (clashed with) the quaffers of dregs (the gnostics,
drinkers of gnostic liquor), he came a purler (had a head- long and spectacular fall).

If a black stone (i.e. a blackguard—tow, worthless, rough and criminal, unprincipled and hellish
scoundrel) even gives away his life (in exchange for a change in his nature) he can never become
a ruby (fit for Lahoot); as it is, in an encounter with the real, genuine pearl (the perfect saint),
how will a false bead fare? What can he do?

Lament and wail! For notwithstanding all his astuteness (zeraki) and his deliberativeness (the
capacity to weigh and measure everything before making a plan or project; derived from libra,
i.e. scales or tula), that beloved master waylaid the bird (i.e. looted his wits and made him his
crazy lover) and even without so much as a bait, it became entangled in the trap.

That Hafiz whose hand used to pull him out of even the thought about the locks of hair of the
beauteous idols (saints and sages), see how he has fallen for this beloved master—what a
wonderful beloved it is, who. has obsessed him (literally, who has fallen on his head).

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LYRIC 165 (10 VERSES)
1-5. Earlier than this time, you were more sympathetic towards your lovers, O master, than now;
your kind and sympathetic behaviour with us (your lovers) was well-known all over the world.

I wonder if you remember those nightly sittings with you when I would discuss and argue with
your locks of hair about the mysteries of ardent passion of love and about the (charmed) circle of
lovers!

Although the beauty of the elect of the (master’s) assembly used to carry away the hearts and the
(traditional) faith of the seekers, the gaze of my passion for you was fastened on your natural
grace and kind favour (ikhlaaq).

My love (dostee) and your kindness (meher) from the hour of the pre-eternal until the morning of
eternity (the end) rested on a plighted word (alast, with Adam pledging obedience and love for
God, and God pledging His protection, love and grace for Adam).

If the shadow (of protection) of the beloved (master) fell upon the lover (i.e. if the beloved
followed the lover like a shadow, ever protective, loving and watchful), what of that? for if we
were utterly dependent (mohtaaj) on him, he too was our lover (literally, fond of us).
6-10.
Even before God created this azure ceiling (firmament) and this enamelled niche (taaq, i.e. terra
firma), the theatre of my eye was a niche (mehrab, curved arch, in the middle of which is the:
nukta-i-sveda) of (my beloved master’s) eyebrows.

O Pretentious preacher! If the String of rosary has broken down, deem me to be helpless (i.e.
excuse me), for my hand (i.e. my soul) had wrapped up, round the silvery (fair) wrist of my
auspicious cupbearer (my master).

On the door of my king (master), a beggar (lover of the master) made a subtle point relevant to
my (spiritual) work. He said, “On whichever dining table I sat, 1 found that God alone was my
Provider” (i.e. all that a saint does is by the divine impulse).

If during the night of qadr (union with the beloved master), I quaffed the morning wine (of
gnosis, i.e. I became engaged in contemplation), O pharisaical Sufi, don’t find fault with me (i.e.
don’t blame me), for my beloved (master) came in an ecstatic state (spiritually inebriated) and a
cup (his Divine word) was on the edge of the niche (i.e. the moment I beheld the gloriously
ecstatic countenance of my perfect master, my soul ascended to the nukta-i-sveda, the portal to
God’s abode).

Inside the Celestial Garden (of Eden) during the era of Adam (i.e. before his Fall), the (spiritual)
verses of Hafiz, for the Spiritual uplift (daulat) of spirits like eglantine and rose were the
embellishments of the leaves (Of their book of gnosis).

LYRIC 166 (10 VERSES)

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1-5. So long-as the traces (name and marks) of the (gnostic) tavern and (gnostic) wine remain,
my head would continue to remain as dust of the path of the master of the tavern (my beloved
master).

Since the pre-eternal, I am like an earring of my master of (gnostic) tavern (ever listening to the
Great Name as revealed by my master) ; remain like this (i.e. my relationship with my master is
eternal, from the beginning to the end of existence).

(O seeker!) Whenever you pass by the head of my grave, offer solicitations imploring for
Spiritual fortitude, for that grave will ever remain the holy place of pilgrimage for men of
(spiritual) perception.

O master ! That piece of earth which bears your footprint (i.e. the place where there would
remain your devotees, adhering to the path you have Prescribed and reciting the Great Name you
have revealed), that spot would for years together, remain the place of prostration for all men of
perception.

O hubristic (self-focusing and conceited) abstinent! Be gone, for from my external (sensual) eye
and your sensual eye, the mystery concealed behind the curtain (of ignorance, delusion and lust)
is hidden and will ever remain hidden.
6-10. O you (my beloved master)! While your heart has never been attracted towards (my
plight), my heart on the contrary, would, till the doomsday, remain drawn towards you.

O comrade! Today, my lover-killer beloved (master), in a state of (spiritual) ecstasy has gone
out: wait and see whose heart-blood is shed (by him) today.
O khwaja (with pretensions of greatness)! Don’t find fault with the (spiritually) inebriated
(lovers of gnosis), for nobody knows who will pass away from this ancient caravan-serai
(wherein people every moment come and from which they depart sooner than they want or
expect), and in what state (for everything for them will be determined by their spiritual state at
the moment of their final departure, not by their current pleasure or displeasure).

O master! Since the moment when I lay my head in my grave, my gaze, in its longing (shauq) for
you, would continue to remain fastened on your countenance.

(But as for the present,) if the bad luck of Hafiz would continue to operate in this wise (helping
the process of his separation from his beloved master), then, of course, the locks of hair of his
beloved lady-like master (mashuqa) would be in the hands of others (i.e. the rivals of Hafiz).

LYRIC 167 (16 VERSES)

1-6. I fear that my tears shed in the affliction of my love would rip up the curtain (screening the
mystery of my love), and this sealed (hidden) secret would become the talk of the world (i.e. the
whole world would recount and narrate the tale of my love).

They say that entrenched in patience, even the (despicable): stone is transmuted into a ruby (fit
and qualified for Lahoot); yes, it does become it, but this transmutation comes good by its:
shedding the blood of its liver (i.e. although the fruit of patience is sweet and delicious, its

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process is bitter. That is why, the great secret of success is to know how to wait and endure.
Accustom yourself to that which you bear ill, and you will bear it well).

O comrade! Wailing and crying for justice (against the injustice inflicted by my master who
refuses union and insists on keeping me separate from him), I desire to repair to the (gnostic)
tavern (of my beloved master); it is quite on the cards that my heart there may get released from
the grips of pain (of separation from him).

With this headstrongness (obstinacy in the matter of keeping me separate from you) that is
instilled in the head of your lofty cypress-like stature, how can our deficient hand reach up to it,
when it cannot go up even to you back ? (In other words, when we cannot hold you firmly in our
grasp even physically, how can we have a measure of your spiritual height, O master!

This castle of spiritual sovereignty of which you are the moon and theatre, a great many heads
would lie on its door-sill like the dust of its door (i.e. a great many stalwarts with tall spiritual
claims would lick the dust of your door-sill).

From all directions, I have darted the arrows of supplications (at your spiritual castle in order to
break into it); may be, that anyone of them may come good and hit the target.

7-12. By the alchemy of your favour and grace, O beloved master, my countenance has become
transmuted into gold (so that when they see me, in my face they behold your own reflection); O
yes, by the elixir of your (kind) attention, even the dust (clay) becomes transmuted into gold (i.e.
the vile is purged of his vileness and becomes virtuous).

O my (afflicted) heart! Present the account of my state to my heart-ravisher (my beloved master),
but do it in such a manner that even the zephyr may not get a scent of it (lest my rivals should get
the wind up and become thoroughly alarmed, nervous, over-anxious and funky).

O my heart ! If sometimes (literally, on any day) you become grieved (by the beloved master’s
separation or indifference), don’t become tense (stretched or stressed tightly, taut and under
strain, tung-dil); be gone and thank him (the master) lest from bad you should become worse.

O impatient heart! Remain patient and endure steadfastly ; don’t grieve, for after all, every
evening (jadedness) is followed by morning (joy)and every night (gloom) by dawn (gaiety).

From the hauteur (superciliousness and disdain) of the hoity-toity rival, I am in a quandary
(literally, narrow straits, tung-nai); God forbid, if a beggar (i.e. my rival) becomes a chooser
(mautbar or credible, successful)!

(O thrasonical charlatan !) In addition to (external) beauty, some other mark (nukta) is also
required which could appeal to the judgment (tabah) of a man of insight and perception.

13-16. (O beloved master!) My love for you is instilled into my inner being, and my ardent
passion for you has possessed my mind this I have sucked in alongwith my mother’s breast (i.e.
since birth) and it would come out only when I give up the ghost.

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O my eye balls! After (hearing all) this (from me), don’t shed tears, lest the feet of the image
(fancy) of my beloved master should become wet: (and befouled)!

O my heart! The (outer) end of the (musky) navel of my master’s locks of hair, is in your hand.
Hold your tongue (literally, breath), lest the zephyr (which spreads the secret tales all around)
should get the wind up (and become funky).

(O lovely master!) Should my dust be trampled by your feet, Hafiz, in order to kiss your feet,
would lift and take his feet out of his grave.

LYRIC 168 (7 VERSES)

1-7. (O spiritually robust master!) May your (corporeal) body not require the attention of the
supercilious (worldly) physicians; may your (spiritually) delicate being (wajood-i-nazuk) not
become afflicted by any harm.

You being the lord and sovereign of the entire cosmos) the safety of the entire universe lies in
your safety; may your person not come to any pain (harm) by any ailment (aarza).

When in this orchard (master’s congregation), the autumn (i.e. the charlatans, the-Sundry
enemies of gnosis) enters for pillage and plunder (i.e. to vex, torture and harass), may they not
find its way towards this (spiritually) lofty cypress.

On the stage (basaat) which is the theatre of your beauteous luminescence, may the evil eye of
the taunter and jeerer who see only the evil and like all that is vile, not have the power or
gumption to find an opportunity or chance to carry conviction.

(O master!) The beauty of form (soorat or body) as well as substance (maani or soul) is from the
favour of your (kind and favourable) attention (himmat); may your visible being (zaahirat) never
become frozen (ineffective in your spiritual track) and may your inner core be never dispirited
(downhearted and depressed).

Anyone who casts an evil eye on your moonlike visage, may his eye be incinerated like the black
til (sesame grain which they burn in the fire as an antidote to the evil eye) in the fire (i.e. the
beauty) of your face.

(O my spiritual comrade!) (If you feel sickly) obtain the cure from the mellifluous (literally,
sugar-showering) discourses of Hafiz, so that you may not be left in need of the rose petals and
candy (i.e. the conserve prepared from rose petals mixed with candy in gulqand or rose jam. In
other words, you may not require any other external aid from anyone, anything).

LYRIC 169 (5 VERSES)

1-5. When my Turk (my bold, beloved master) spreads his musky locks of hairs, all
around (i.e. delivers gnostic discourses for everyone to hear), the heart of anemone becomes
blood-soaked (i.e. the opponents of gnosis become red-faced, flushed with embarrassment and
anger), and the bazar of the liliaceous (the lily-livered, cowardly spiritual quacks and

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masqueraders) becomes dull and depressed and Passes in recession (i.e.. loses its customers).
And if, he with his cypress-like stature, and his pomegranate-like red complexion, saun-teringly
makes it to the orchard (the congregation of his disciples), he uproots the cypresses (those with
tall claims of having gnostic knowledge) and breaks the hearts of roses (captivates the hearts of
all earnest, happy seekers who lose their hearts to him). Since the day, when the image of the
eyebrows of my beloved master began to elude me (i.€. since I failed to concentrate on. the
image of my master at the nukta-t-sveda), through that passage (my eyes) hundreds of flooded
rivers of water have flowed down, which cause breaches in hundreds of bridges (of restraints
imposed by my understanding and patience, i.e. which make me impatient; anxious and rattled).
When the morning zephyr (morning meditation, contemplation and recitation) tips the veil of the
rose (enables me to have a glimpse of the nner form of my beloved master), it breaks the thorn in
the. wounded heart of the bulbul (i.e. it removes the thorn or source of irritation and anguish
from the flesh of ‘the earnest lover of the master). a Hafiz! Don’t wash your hands off the
mystery . of pointed concentra- tion (on the nukta-i-sveda) unless and until your steadfast and
complete reliance on the master’s grace smashes the conceit of abstinence and contentment, (for
the essential purpose of practising abstinence and contentment is to enable the practitioner to get
rid of his ego and I-ness and to make him absolutety’ humble and utterly dependent on the
perfect master’s grace and compassion, with a perfect realization that his own personal
endeavour would take him nowhere without the master’s grace).

LYRIC 170 (11 VERSES)

1-6. (O gnostic seeker!) Without beholding the beauty of the sweetheart (the beloved master),
your soul would be devoid of any inclination towards the entire universe (i.e. the whole universe
would look stale and repulsive, if you don’t have the company of your beloved master); everyone
who does not have it (the glimpses of the beloved master) would not have that (spirit which can
be functional in this phenomenal realm).

I have not been able to find a trace of that heart-ravisher (in whose heart my heart has made its
abode); either I am unaware of his trace (i.e. lam clueless, stupid), or may be that he himself is
traceless.

In this path of love, every dew drop.(i.e. tears shed in love for the beloved master) is like a
hundred flames of fire (i.e. the more the lover. weeps in pangs of separation, the more furious the
fire of love becomes); what a pity that nobody has the key or clue to this puzzle.

O cameleer! Stop this journey and halt, for this path (of gnosis) on which you are going
(heedlessly) has no end; abide in contentment and don’t let its head slip out of our hand (hold it
firmly).

The back-bent violin (the sound, of Hahoot) calls you to the (Divine) raptures (of Hahoot); heed
that call, for the counsels of the Ancients (the deities of the higher spiritual regions) don’t put
you to the least (spiritual) loss (if anything, it will give you rich spiritual dividends).

If the candle (the charlatan who goes about preening like a cockalorum, bragging and crowing, a
self- important little man) is himself your master’s rival, keep your (gnostic) secret hidden from

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him, for this cheeky headless (witless) cannot hold its tongue (and will go about telling tales,
fanciful lies).
7-11. Such a spiritual zap and pep (to which I have been referring in the above verses) has no life
(i.e. cannot survive) without (sustenance from) the beloved (master) even as your life cannot
have zap and pep without the beloved (master).

Whisper the details of the | story of the treasure of Korah (the pompous, conceited, vainglorious
and supercilious) which Time (God) caused the earth to swallow along with his dwelling place
(the Koran, XXVIII, 79-80), into the ears of the rose (your perfect master) so that he may expose
(to you) your own propensities [like greed for gold, anger, ego, attachment and so on, deeply
embedded in your conscious, subconscious and unconscious (or gross, astral and causal bodies
and mind; cf. the verse: “Dikha kar mana ke sabhi vikaar, dava se detey sahaj nikaar- “By
exposing your own negative traits to you, he, the kind master, mercifully, removes them from
your mind” ; Rai Salig Ram, Prem Bani, Part II, Discourse 9, Hymn 28, Verse 6, p. 65, edition
1964, Soami Bagh, Agra)].

The one whom you call as the master of poesy (ustad or expert), if you probe: (i.e. if you search
into and examine his truth closely), you will find him a craftsman (skilful and smart fabricator)
but he does not have the spiritual spontaneity (of a saint, the perfect poet, i.e. maker).

O my heart! Pick up the art of gnostic inebriety from the State Controller of Public Morals, for
he is ever intoxicated by (fleshly) liquor but he never suspects that he is drunk (and poses that he
is an abstinent and in full possession of his wits).

(O my mighty majestic master!) None in this world has a bonds- man (slave or thrall) like Hafiz,
for in this world nobody is a king (a master) of your spiritual eminence and majesty.

LYRIC 171 (13 VERSES)

1-6. For this (phenomenal) world, the Id is embellished by the indigo-like dye of the new
moon, (but) for the gnostic, the new moon of Jd should be perceived in the new moon-like
eyebrow of the beloved (master). (Allusion is to the new moon, which the seeker beholds when
he pierces the nukta-i-sveda, located in the deep bend of the eyebrow, that Prophet Mohammed
split in twain, Shaq-al-Qamar.) Like the (thin) back of the new moon, my stature has become
bent, for how can the eyebrow of my beloved master put up with the burden of the indigo leaf?
(So to say, by the sight of the eyebrows of my beloved master, my spirit has been able to
penetrate into the nukta-i-sveda and become bent in humility, having shed off the bag of my
sins.) (O beloved master!) ‘Don’t cover your face and don’t be distracted by the sauciness
(sprightliness) of the sight of your beauty, for the row of (black) hair on your face has breathed
the spell of, “We have warded off the evil eye of the infidels’’. It appears that the breeze
(fragrance) emitted by your body passed through the grad-----------------------early in the
morning, for impelled by your fragrance, the rose (your disciple-in-chief) has torn its garment
(i.c. has blossomed in full bloom and become sprightly) in the wise of the break of dawn. (O
lovely master!) Come, so that I may speak of the weariness and sickness of my heart, for without
you I don’t have the stamina or strength for speaking, or the strength (inclination) to hear (i.e.
without you I cannot hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi and cannot meditate and contemplate). Even before
the violin (chang) and the rebeck (rabab-.the sounds of ‘which one hears in Hahoot), and rose

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and niersteiner (nabeed, white wine, emblem of Hahoot, white as the full moon) were non-
existent, the soil of my being was kneaded with (gnostic) wine and niersteiner (i.e. since the pre-
eternal I was destiried to be a gnostic).
7-13. If the price of union with you, O master, be my soul (surat, the spring of life), even
then I am the (eager) buyer of it, for a customer of perception and insight readily buys the fine
stuff in exchange for whatever he can afford of manage. Don't ridicule and insult my tears
(literally, scatter the sheen of my tears), for far away from you (i.e. apart from you) I have
become (thin) as air (i.e. hare-brained, mad as a March hare, giddy and foolhardy) and went
about rolling 1 dust. (O radiant master!) When beheld your moon-like visage beneath your lock
of hair, by the effulgence? of your countenance, MY night (i.e. my gloom and depression) had
become: transformed into the radiant day (i.e. by beholding you, my nescience and delusion gave
way to gnostic light and radiance). But, then, O lovely (master), although my life had come to
the brink (literally, lips) of death, my ultimate aim (of becoming merged unto you or fana) did
not come good; although! reached the end of my tether, my quest (for you) did not end. (O my
spiritual comrade!) Don’t expect much (good) from the vicissitudes of Time, for the sphere (the
Wheel of Time), like the dawn, has had the last laugh on the (phenomenal) world (i.e. Time has
always made merry at the expense of this world, often to its surprise and confusion; it has always
laughed at the world to scorn, treating it with the utmost contempt) (O master ') My heart had
been crazy of your locks of hair (of your metaphysical, gnostic mystery) know it very well for, in
front of your visage, it used to laugh (crazily) as lightning (i.e. it always laughed on the wrong
side of its mouth and was made to feel vexation and annoyance after mirth of satisfaction, and
was bitterly disappointed; left high and dry, it cried in pain) In his longing for your ruby(-like
lips: i.e. your lively gnostic discourses) Hafiz has composed (literally, written) a few verses you
may read his composition (nazm) and put it into your ears like the earring of pearls.

LYRIC 172 (8 VERSES)

1-8. May the bright, sun-like light of your beauty dazzle every eye (that beholds you) ; may your
beauty, shown up by your beauteous face, excel all beauty and its fame become more and more
dazzling.

May the hearts of the worldly kings take shelter under the wings and pinions of the gerfalcon-
like huma of your (spiritual) zenith. [Huma is a famous oriental bird which never alights but is
always on the wing. It is said that every head which it overshadows will wear a crown. Here, it
would mean “spiritual” crown. That is to say, anyone who seeks the sanctuary of my Huma- like
master would become a spiritual king or saint. The gerfalcon especially, the tercel or male) is for
a king as distinguished from tercel-gentle which is for a prince, or falcon of the rock which is for
a duke and so on. That is to say, anyone who gets as close to my master as a gerfalcon is to the
king, would become his disciple-in- chief].

May that heart which is not tied up (in love) with your locks of hair (your attractive spiritual
discourses and prescriptions), ever remain submerged in the blood of the liver. (The liver was
anciently supposed to be the seat of love. By the phrase, ‘submerged in the blood of the liver’,
Hafiz means that his love for anyone else may remain unrequited, with his liver burning hot,
eventually to become “white-livered” or “lily-livered” or a spiritual poltroon, a spineless
preacher).

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(O the idol of my heart, the ogler!) When your amorous looks dart the spear (of your love), may
my wounded heart become its coat of mail (so that all your arrows fall upon my wounded heart).

When your sugary, ruby-like lips give me the privilege of kissing them (i.e. when you confer
upon me the spiritual touch of gnosis through your sweet words and discourses), may the
joviality (mazaaq) or savour) of my soul become sweet and lively by them.

In as much my craze (ishq) for you is renewed and refreshed every moment, I pray that your
(spiritual) beauty (splendour and magnetism) may become renewed every instant.

Anyone who is not killed (overcome by your killing beauty) by your (beauteous, killing)
countenance, may he ever be distracted and topsy-turvy as your scattered locks.

(O beloved master!) Hafiz, heart and soul, is fond (mushtaq) of and longs for you; may your gaze
be ever fastened on the plight of your longing lovers (i.e. may your grace and favour be ever
showered on your dedicated disciples).

LYRIC 173 (7 VERSES)

1-7. (O master!) Even the (lustrous) sun and (radiant) moon are not and cannot be as
refulgent as your countenance; in the fragrant garden (of this world and beyond) there is and
cannot be a cypress as (spiritually) lofty as your (spiritual) stature. In respect of heart upliftment
(dilfarozee), there is and cannot be a pearl in the ocean, and a ruby in the mine such as your ruby
(-like lips) and pearls (your spiritual discourses and the touches you impart). It would be
inexcusably curious (strange), if your sweet lips between the rows of your delicate hair are not
(found by your dedicated disciples and beholders to be) the fountain of Water of Life. His
pistachio (mouth) is (cheekily) smiling, like the frageria fruit (strawberry, fundaq, having a
sweet fleshly receptacle, bearing small seed like parts) on my plight; why, then, my almond
(eyes) will not wail and weep (at my helplessness and his indifference)? (O my comrade!) His
(master’s) hair are such a blackness of unfaithfulness (kufr) that L swear by your face, my heart
would never rest in the safety of faith in him (i.e. he is such a saucy, cheeky beloved that I don’t
know what he will do this moment and what he will do the next moment). O master! I am certain
that no corporeal body could have any relationship (i.e. semblance) with your body, (for you are
no mortal man; you arc Divinity in person) ‘and by God, not only any corporeal body could be
like yours, but also no spirit could be like yours (for your spirit is God’s own spirit in that you
are His plenipotentiary in the entire cosmos. What you say ordo is His word and dispensation).
(O reader!) Although the verses of Hafiz are mellifluous, they are not and can never be like the
words that fall from the ruby-like lips of that King of the Beauteous (i.e. my beloved master).
LYRIC 174 (7 VERSES)
1-7. When from the east of the (gnostic) cup (i.e. from the region of Haq which was the first to
be created), the sun of (gnostic) wine rises, from the garden of the cheeks of my cupbearer (my
master), a thousand anemones sprout (i.e. when my beloved master pours his gnostic discourses
in his congregation, thousands of ordinary devotees become as radiant as the spirit entities
dwelling in the Lahoot).
When the fragrance of his locks of hair (i.e. the crisp discourses of the master) is emitted amid
the garden (the master’s congregation), the breeze (Divine impulse) shakes the head of the roses
(the earnest devotees assembled in the congregation) with the fibres of liliaceaous plant (i.e. the

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master’s. Divine impulse imparts Divine mysteries to the higher minds of the devouts and rouses
them spiritually).
The sad tale of my night of separation (from the beloved master) is not such a complaint about
my plight, that even a small fraction of it could be elucidated even in a hundred years.

O seeker! Don’t place any reliance on, and don’t pin any hopes with the round dining-table
(deceptive bounty) of this inverted firmament, that it would release even a morsel of (spiritual)
pabulum for you without your going through hundreds of wearying and irksome ordeals of
anguish and pain.
In the flood of tribulation (gham-i-toofan), if you have patience, in the wise of Noah’s (arch), the
calamity would be averted (from you), and your spiritual aim, which remained unfulfilled for the
last thousand years, could be realized (for a patient, humble temper gathers blessings that are
marred by the peevish and over- looked by the aspiring).
By your own effort, you cannot attain to the core (the central and the most essential part) of your
(spiritual) object; it would be merely a fancy (ill-founded opinion of yourself) if you imagine that
this (spiritual) mission of yours can come good without reference (hawala) to the perfect living
master.
If even the scent of his union with you, (O master,) passed through the grave-yard of Hafiz, from
the dust of his body a thousand tulips would shoot up.

LYRIC 175 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Like the wind (i.e. like a sweeping force) 1 wish to be dead-set on making it to the lane of
my beloved (master); I want to make the entire atmosphere musky by his fragrance (i.e.
wherever I go, I would carry and diffuse, transmit and reflect his spiritual message).

Whatever reputation I have built up from my dianoetic wisdom and faith (intuition), I would
prefer to shower it as a sacrifice on the dust of the path of that beauteous and comely beloved
(master).

Without (gnostic) wine and without the beloved (master), my life has been squandered ; enough
of this dissipation (in the service of Iblis) ; from today I must engage myself in my own work
(the work concerning the redemption of my soul which means taking resort to the perfect living
master and his gnostic discourses and practices).

Where is the zephyr {i.e. where are my sensual organs and instruments of action, all of which are
my breath, my air)? for [ am going to make a sacrifice of my blood-soaked soul (i.e. my
lifeblood, life itself) on the fragrance (Divine impulse) emitted by the beloved master’s locks (his
recondite discourses that conceal Divine light).

Out of my love for him (for the living master), it has become very clear to me that in the wise of
the candle burning straight up to tie dawn, I must dedicate all my years, till the end, in this
business (of love for, and service to, the living master).

In the remembrance of your (spiritually penetrating) eye, I will make myself exhausted and
spoiled (in the eyes of the worldlings), but I will strengthen the foundations of my ancient pledge

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(the covenant of alast with. God saying to the children of Adam, ‘‘Am I not your Lord ?’’, and
their reply, ‘‘Ye, verily ! We testify!; the Koran, VII, 172).

O Hafiz! Hypocrisy (nifaaq) and gilt (false appearance, zarg) do not confer cleanliness upon the
heart (from evils such as falsehood, insincerity, inequity, oppression, breach of trust, avarice,
extravagance, miscreance, envy, arrogance, hubris and lewdness); 1 will rather take to the path of
(spiritual) ecstasy and passion of love (for the perfect living master, rindee-o-ishq).

LYRIC 176 (10 VERSES)

1-5. I don’t quite know what sort of ecstasy it is, that has appeared in me, and who that cupbearer
was (the beloved master who served to me the gnostic wine), and whence he fetched this
(gnostic) wine (that has made me so ecstatic)?

O my heart! Don’t grouse and grumble about this sealed (knotted) box of luck; for the zephyr
(carrying the Divine impulse from the beloved master) has fetched me the lively breeze (i.e. the
Divine impulse from the master) that is the resolver of all knots (of gross matter with Divine
energy— jad-chaitan ki gaanth).

May the advent of the rose (the perfect master) and eglantine (his disciple-in-chief) be safe and
sound; the violet (the practicing gnostic) has come (to the congregation of the master) hale and
hearty, and the jasmine (entirely devoted to meditation or Sultan-al-Azkar) has brought in purity.

The cure for the frailty (and etiolating) of my heart is the charisma of the cupbearer (the perfect
master); O heart, lift your head (i.e. stir your stumps and become active and lively) for the healer
(the perfect master) has come and has brought in the panacea (the Water of Life, his all-healing
gnostic prescription and medicine).

The zephyr, in respect of glad tidings (from the beloved master) is like the hoopoe of Solomon
(that carried the epistle and ensign from Solomon to Bilqis: see Mathnawi Rumi, Volume II,
Section 38, Verses 1776-80), for it (hoopoe) has brought the glad tidings from the rose-garden
(congregation) of ‘‘Sheba’’ (to the beloved master; see the holy Koran, XXVII, 20-44).
6-10.

What a path (note) the minstrel (the disciple-in-chief) with a perfect sense of time and place,
(fully aware that time and tide wait for no man) strikes, that during the tete-a-tete (heart-to-heart
talk) between the lover and the beloved (ghazal) he has brought in a message from the beloved
(master).

(O Hafiz!) You also take to (gnostic) wine and the violin and make it to the (spiritual) forest, for
the fowl—the chirper of (gnostic) melodies has brought in a melodious musical instrument (i.e.
he has opened for us the way to Lahoot and Hahoot).

O (pharisaical) sheikh! I am the mureed (disciple, who has died to his flesh and has wholly
merged his self unto the will of his master) of the pir-i-mughaan (the gnostic vintner or master);
don’t take me amiss, for while you only dangled before me the hope (enticement of houri and

135
heaven and celestial wine), he (my perfect living master of gnosis) has made good (what you had
promised but which he had never himself promised).

I am really proud of the short-sightedness of that commander (Turk) of (spiritual) array of troops
(Supreme Master and Commander of the Realm of Spirit) for his launching his attack (scheme of
deliverance) on a miserable soul like me, having only one shirt (and that, the shirt of ishq,
burning passion for the perfect master, the only wealth and possession of Hafiz).

O master! In as much Hafiz is the implorer of mercy at your exalted portal (i.e. he is your thrall),
even the sphere (all the tall and mighty gods and goddesses) gladly live in his thralldom (see Sar
Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., paras 154 and 202).

LYRIC 177 (10 VERSES)

1-5. (What a saucy and unpredictable sort is my beloved master that) if 1 strike the locks of his
head with my hand (to attract his attention to my plight) he looks askance at me; and if I seek
peace with him, he takes it amiss and becomes. angry.

Like the helpless seers of the new moon (who find it difficult to make out if the new moon of Id
has risen or not), he (my master) slams the door on the way of the seers of his new moon-like
face by throwing the missile of his oblique eye from the ambuscade of his eyebrow, and then
slips behind the veil (i.e. do what you may, but he never permits anyone to have a glimpse of his
mysterious-inner form).

O heart! The path of burning passion of love is full of tension (aashob) and frenzy (fitna); he
who flounces about it (moves with emphatic and impatient movements and strides), he is soon
run down and floored (confounded and defeated).

O spiritual striver! Don’t sell out (the prestigious honour of) beggary at the door of the sweet-
heart (the beloved master), even for a sultanate; for, whoever goes into-the (scorching heat) of
the sun (i.e. this searing fleshly world) from the (soul-lifting) shade of this sanctuary?

When the bubble puts) on airs (literally, when the head of the bubble becomes full of the air of
hubris) to impress others, its plume (large ornamental feather) plummets and plunges into the
sand.

6-10. In wakefulness (i.e. when I keep awake in the night) he spoils my nocturnal drinking spree
(i.e. his remembrance disturbs my deep spiritual contemplation for all the time I keep awake and
his memory haunts me)’ and if in the day, I converse with him, he becomes somnolent (sick and
weary of hearing my endless talk of the pains of love and separation from him).

O master! you have dubbed (proclaimed) me a breaker of my pledge (of not asking you for a kiss
on your lips and cheeks and for not importuning you for union with yo9u, i.i. for not asking you
to impart Divine secrets to me); well, I am afraid, on the day of judgment , you would also pass
by the name of pledge-breaker (for you promised to me kisses and union very often, and that
often you went back on your plighted word).

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O my heart! When you have grown old, don’t bargain for beauty and tendresse (i.e. don’t expect
that the beauteous master would doubt about your spiritual maturity and devote spiritual
attention to you. You being spiritually ripe, would not need that, as those who are still striving
need it); this, because this kind of transaction takes place when the seeker is young (a saint in the
making).

When you have gone through the book of black hair (i.e. the book of Gnostic secrets), and you
have turned grey (ripe and mature in Gnostic wisdom), you may go about an number of hair
cuttings (cries out of pain of love and meditational practices involving cutting into and scratching
of the Divine mysteries), the greyness (gnostic maturity) would not become less (i.e. you would
not once again become immature so as to be justified in asking for the master’s special
attention).

O Hafiz! Your yourself have interposed as a screen between your “self” and become fana or self-
effaced); remove your curtain (of ego), for in this path of love he that walks in the nude (i.e. dead
to his flesh and ego) goes better (i.e. comes good).

LYRIC 178 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O master! Many days have passed and you have not written of my plight to you; it is a pity
that there is no messenger through whom I could send you a few messages.

As for me, O master, I cannot at my own live up to your lofty aim; of course, it is a different
matter if by your grace you can take a few steps forward towards me (O master spiritual
comrade!)

Now that (the Gnostic) wine (i.e. your mystery) has poured forth from the pitcher (the perfect
master) has cast aside the veil (has manifested himself in full view of the seers), O seeker, se in
this an opportunity for (spiritual) rapture and pleasure, and quaff a few cupfuls (i.e.. grasp a few
Divine mysteries from the perfect master). O master!

The mixture of rose petals and candy (i.e. merely your mellifluous discourse, sweet though it is)
is not the cure for my (sickly) heart; give me the mixture of a few kisses (your grace and favour)
and a few harsh words (literally, abuses or kicks, so that your kisses and kicks, your loving
counsels and stern admonitions would purge my heart of its deeply ingrained filth and dirt).

O beggars (earnest lovers) of the taverns (congregations of saints and sages)! Your true beloved
is God (i.e. God’s plenipotentiary on the earth, the perfect master). Don’t fasten your gaze on the
beasts (the charlatans) for (spiritual) prize (redemption, i.e. those spiritual quacks who function
like wild beasts and operate at the level of the three lowest physical ganglions—anus,
reproductive organ and navel—would not be of any relief to you in your spiritual quest).

O (pretentious) abstinent! Pass by the lane of the (spiritually) inebriated (i.e. the gnostics) quietly
(without fuss), so that the company of a few notorious (gnostics) may not pollute you (i.e. may
render you a reject in this world).

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O masquerading healer! You have spoken at length about the vices (evils) of (gnostic) wine;
speak of its virtues also (for nothing that God has created is entirely vicious, devoid of all
virtues), at least for the sake of satisfaction of some (anxious) hearts (anxiously seeking spiritual
redemption); don’t deny the wisdom of divine providence (hikmat).

What a marvelously beautiful counsel has been given by the master of the (gnostic) tavern:
“Don’t speak of the plight of a heart, burnt and baked in the fire of love, to the raw (or even the
half-baked).

O master! In the bright light of your countenance that confers radiance upon the sun, Hafiz has
been burnt out (consumed and merged unto you). O the fulfiller of wishes! Cast an eye (of favour
and grace) on those whose wishes (for redemption) remain unfulfilled.

LYRIC 179 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O master! May (the moon of) your beauty ever wax; may your visage remain like a red
anemone throughout the year (i.e. may every day that you live in this phenomenal world remain
a red-letter day for your disciples and devotees).

May 1 ever remain head over heels in love with you, and may the wind of love, for the rest of my
life, ever become stronger and stronger.

May the stature of all the heart-ravishers (saints and sages) of the cosmos, in front of your
(spiritual) stature, ever remain bent in your service.

May every cypress (saint) that manifests in the garden (the gnostic congregation) as alif, ever
remain double-bent (like the Persian letter noon), focusing on your straight stature like the
Persian letter alif.

May the eye which is not infatuated by overwhelming passion for you, ever remain sunk in
burning tears of blood.

Wherever there is one who has the heart (set on love for gnosis and the gnostic master), may it
remain forever in pain of love for you—impatient, restless and with- out tranquility.

May your eye, for the sake of ravishing the heart (of your lovers) remain skilled in casting its
spell (on your ardent disciples).

May the man who cannot make it up with your separation ever remain outside the circle of union
with you (i.e. the price one has to pay for union with you is the long spell of painful separation
from you, during which spelt the yearning for you may become unbearable, so that your grace
could flow like milk from mother’s breasts for feeding the crying suckling).

May your lips (your divine discourses) which are the life-blood of Hafiz, ever remain remote
from the lips (deceitful, wily words) of every despicable wretch (Khasees-i-doon).

LYRIC 180 (7 VERSES)

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1-7. O Khusroe (majestic, spiritual king)! May the ball of this dome-like sky be ever dependent
upon the bent of your bat (i.e. may everything that comes to pass under this firmament receive its
instruction from you). May the expanse of your field (of divine sport) be nothing less than time
and space [i.e. may you dictate your terms to time and space and take your disciples beyond
them, i.e. beyond the gamut of time (palak) and space (alakh; see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op.
cit., para 246)|.

The waves of renown (i.e. reverberations), generated by the (spiritual) magnet of your (spiritual)
impulse have firmly taken this universe into its grasp and have opened up all the dimensions (to
your disciples); may they ever remain your (alert) watch and ward.

The lock of hair of Lady Victory is madly in love with your flag already (i.e. wherever your flag,
your insignia and spiritual message goes, victory kisses it); may the eye of victory of eternity be
ever in love with the galloping steed of your (spiritual) impulse (i.e. may your spiritual impulse
lead to the speedy redemption of your disciples).

The writing and recording ability of Mercury (the clerk of the heaven) is designed only to record
and write about the essence of your spiritual awe and aura ; may the Universal Mind (aql-i-kul)
become the scribe of the Reader (peshkar) of your (spiritual) court (preparing the script of your
commands).

The luminescence of your heart-captivating stature dazzles the eye of luminousness of the
celestial Tuba tree may the courtyard of your (spiritual) mansion become the shame of empyrean
(khuld-i- bareen, the Alaum-i-Jabroot).

Not only the realms of the inanimate, vegetation and animals but whatever there be in the realm
of this. Creation which is the outcome of the Divine command, “Be!” and “Lo, it became!”, may
all this be under your command (i.e. may you redeem the beings of the entire cosmos).

It is with utter sincerity that Hafiz, the humble and consumed by your love, has become your
eulogizer, O master! May your universal favour and grace ever remain the panacea for your
paeon singer.

LYRIC 181 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Solitude is agreeable, if my beloved (master) is my comrade (sharing my Camara or room),
not when I burn (alone, in separation from him) while he is the candle (the embellishment) of
assembly (of my rivals).

I will not go in for that gem in Solomon’s ring (which according to Rabbinical fable told him all
he desired to know) at any cost, which, ever and anon, falls into the hands (under the control) of
Ahriman (Angra Mainyou, the spiritual enemy of mankind ever in conflict with Ahura Mazda or
Ormuzd, in the dual system of Zoroaster, i.e. I will not touch, with a pair of tongs, a cobra who
pretends to be a saint, claiming esoteric knowledge but who is ever under the dictates of Satan).

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O Lord! Don’t ever permit that in the boudoir of union (the bedroom of my beloved master) my
rival may be intimate (confidant of my beloved master). And I am damned to deprivation (of
union with my beloved master).

O spiritual companion! Tell huma (my propitious beloved master) not to cast his lucky shadow
(favour) on a country where a parrot (a loyal disciple who always follows the word of his master
without the intervention of his free will or judgment, for he has effaced his ego and become
merged unto his master) is held inferior to an eagle (who is aggressive, contumacious, soars high
in conceit and full of lust for power, like the Roman eagle).

Where is the need to give vent to longing (shauq) for the master, for the state of fury of heart’s
fire (of love) can be figured out from the words of anguish an agony (in a voice that is choky,
tremulous, incoherent).

Even as the wandering heart of a traveler (gone out of his abode in Hoot on a journey to the alien
land of Alam-i-Nasoot and Shahood) is ever set on (going back to) his native land. Likewise, the
ardent desire for your lane, O beloved master, never leaves my consciousness. (Man, who is the
son of Haq or Satt Purush, for his surat is a drop. from Him, is like a traveler in this phenomenal
world which to him is an alien territory; he is ever looking forward to go back to his native land
of which the plenipotentiary on this earth is the perfect, living master. He alone can be the refuge
of the man who is anxious for his repatriation to his native land, the region of Haq, Hoot, or Satt
Desh).

O master! If like the hyacinth (sosan), Hafiz could become a decagon with ten tongues, face to
face with you, like a bud his mouth would remain sealed (i.e. he would never give vent to his
ardent passion of love for you).

LYRIC 182 (13 VERSES)

1-7. I hail the Rose (my beloved master) for there can be nothing happier than the sight of your
holding the cup (of gnostic wine), and nothing else.

(To Hafiz) Seize the moment of joy (union with the beloved master)! O yes, grasp that moment
firmly in your hands, for remember that it is not always that a pearl can be found in the oyster. (It
is only when the raindrop, at the constellation of swati star, falls into the oyster, that saline water
drops in the oyster become transmuted into the priceless, splendorous pearls. The master’s
advent is like the swati raindrops; the oyster with saline water is the seeker with satanic
proclivities, and the process of his transmutation into precious pearls is the process of gnosis
effected by the spiritual technique prescribed by the perfect master.)

Take this moment as a rare opportunity, and quaff the (gnostic) wine (i.e. hear, reflect upon and
digest the spiritual discourses of the master) in the rose-garden (congregation of earnest
disciples), for that rose (the master) may not remain (with you) in the following week.

The path of ishq (ardent passion of love) is a curious path, for here he alone strides with his head
high (in great confidence, with determination and with the conviction of making it to the

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destination), who has lost his head (i.e. his ego, and is utterly dependent on the grace and favour
of the master who alone knows all about this perilous path).

O my fellow traveller! If you are really my class-fellow, wash out (completely, from top to
bottom) the leaves (of stale scriptures), for the knowledge of ishq is not found in any book
(ardent passion of love is something to be experienced (anubhay); it is not something that can be
learnt by rote).
Hear of this mystery (of love) from me, and tie up your heart with the loving cord of the heart of
a beloved (perfect master), whose beauty is not tied in with some ornament (external aids and
accessories like gloss of learning, gift of the gab, blarney, political power or the power of. money
or muscle-power, a large following of sycophants who fool around, and so on).

O (witless, ignorant) sheikh! Enter into our (spiritual) distillery (our meditation hall) and quaff
such a (gnostic) wine the like of which is not available in Kawthar (the celestial lake).

8-13. O you master, who has filled the golden cup (your heart which reflects the golden
complexion of Lahoot) with the ruby- like wine (from Lahoot)! Confer it on one who is destitute
of gold (who does not have the spiritual credentials; by your grace, equip him spiritually and
make him fit for attaining to the level of consciousness of Lahoot).

But, O my cupbearer (my beloved master), as for me, favour me with that vintage wine, which is
free from the side- effect of delirium tremens (khumaar), and which does not entail any
headache (i:e. which does not cause a severe psychotic condition characterized by delirium,
tremor, anxiety and vivid hallucinations).

By love! The idol of my heart (i.e. my beloved master), with a silvery body (splendorous and
luminous) is such an idol that the like of him would not be found in the idol house of Azer (the
uncle of Abraham).

By heart and soul, I am the bondsman of that (spiritual) Sultan Avais (my beloved master), albeit
he may not remember this humble servant (chaakar) of his.

I swear by his crown which is the decoration of the entire cosmos and affirm that in this whole
universe there would not be a more beauteous (spiritual) commander.

Only he would find fault in the composition of Hafiz, who does not have an iota of grace and
finesse in his soul (goher).

LYRIC 183 (10 VERSES)

1-5. O master! If your broken-hearted lovers have the quest but don’t have the stamina (to pursue
the object of their quest, i.e. if they have the desire for the beloved master but no deservedness)
and if you visit your cruelty (indifference and harshness) upon them, it would not be according to
canons of favour and grace.
(Your ardent disciples) did not take any notice of it, but (we are sure) you yourself would regard
it as disagreeable to do that which, runs counter to the norms of humanity.

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O lovely master! So long as the (spiritual) magic of your (attractive) yes does not cast its spell
(favour, on your lovers) continually, forever, in their burning like a candle of love, there would
not be any incandescence (emission of light).
When I am So much oblivious of my end (i.e. of what is going to befall me at the end), I fear lest
you should not find time (fursat) to come to my succour.
O master! I am aware that) anyone Whose mirror of heart is not cleansed of the rust of lust, his
eye would not be fit for (beholding) the cheeks of Divine Providence (wisdom and light).
6-10. That eye is blurred (kheera) whose shine (light) is not wasted (destroyed) by the tears of
love (tears shed in the remembrance of the beloved master); that heart is tarry (teerah, dark)
which is devoid of the light of love and camaraderie (mawaddet).
If there is no cleanliness (taharat), the Kaaba and idol-temple is the same, for in that abode
(heart) which js vacuous of honour, (asmat cardinal and Christian virtues of faith, hope, charity,
prudence, Justice, fortitude and temperance) there can be no goodness (khayr).
O seeker! Expect spiritual exaltation (kingship) from the bird huma (the perfect master) and its
Shadow (i.e. race. for every head which the huma overshadows will wear a crown), for the
carrion crow (the charlatan) and the eagle (the rude, tyrannical] Masquerader) does not have the
royal (spiritual) Wings and Pinions (i.e. they do take wing but they fly towards the Perdition of
hell and come a purler).
O masquerading abstinent! If I sought (spiritual) succour from the master of the (gnostic) tavern
(pir-i-mughaan), don’t find fault with me for our (gnostic) Sheikh has decreed that in the prayer-
hall what is needed is that which is not required in mosques and temples (i.e. attention and
concentration on the nukta-i-sveda, not conceit of a cockalorum or swaggerer which is in the
mosque and temple is galore).
O Hafiz! Take to (Gnostic) knowledge (intuitive wisdom) and spiritual discipline and culture
(born of adab or self-restraint), for in the assembly of a king (perfect master), he who is devoid
of spiritual discipline is considered unworthy of being the king’s associate.

LYRIC 184 (11 VERSES)

1-6. That one will have his heart in the right place (joyous, thoughtful) who does not trail (the
object of) his sensual eyes, and does not stir his stumps unawares to every door that calls him
(for, a spiritual seeker does not know what lies hidden behind the evident).

I know that for me not to be tempted by those sweet lips (mellifluous discourses) is the best bet,
but then, how can a bee (a keen seeker that I am) resist the temptation of not chasing the sugar
(sweet gnostic talks and discourses of the perfect living master)?

I am a destitute (of gold and silver, i.e. the gnostic assets and traits) and yet I am greedy of that
cypress-like (master, who is gnosis in person), and no one’s hand can reach his (delicate) back
(i.e. none can live in the sanctuary of his grace) without (gnostic) gold and silver.

O my tears! Don’t (try to) wash down the blackness of my eyes, for the print of his beauty spot
in my eyes would never be washed down (i.e. the more I cry and weep in his remembrance, the
more firm become the prints of his beauty spots in the balls of my eyes).

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By virtue of your gracious and generous disposition, you are altogether a different realm
(different from this fleshly, unfaithful world); as it is, I am sure you can never be oblivious of my
fidelity and faithful love (for you), (and will requite my love in a manner that befits your
gracious disposition).

In aversion for the crown of my hoopoe (soul), (which is ordinary and lackluster), don’t drive me
out of the path (to you) for a white falcon (gerfalcon, such as you) does not chase every
insignificant prey (like me).

7-11. O my heart! Don’t become such a wanderer (vagabond) that goes around every place (in
quest of a perfect master), for by virtue of such a strategy, none of your spiritual task that lies
ahead of you can come good (i.e. by such roaming and rumbling, you would come a cropper).

The smoke (delusion and ignorance) of my heart has filled in my pen (my speech and word that I
write) and has so crammed my mind that it endlessly produces nothing except black (evil) script
(deeds) so that I do not perceive anyone else with a blacker charter of deeds than myself.

O master! Like the zephyr, don’t stop your (gnostic) fragrance from reaching me, for without
your locks of hair (scent of your Divine mysteries), I cannot afford to live (survive).

O my master! cover up my (spiritual) degradation and lapses by the skirt of your forgiveness, for
I have so many stains that they simply cannot taint and slur and blemish the sheen and reputation
of sharia (the doctrine that regulates the lives of those who profess Islam).

O master! Fetch the (gnostic) wine and, at first, hand it to Hafiz, on condition that this secret
does not go out of your assembly (i.e. the congregation of your devotees).

LYRIC 185 (8 VERSES)

1-8. The heart-ravisher (my beloved master) has gone without informing those whose hearts he
had ravished (i.e. who had lost their hearts to him); he did not remember his comrades who lived
in his city (in his congregation) and who were his fellow-travellers (for he was their path-guide).

Either my destiny (bakht) deserted the path of love or it did not pass through the royal highway
of reality (gnosis).

I kept standing (waiting for him) so that like the candle I could burn out my life for his sake, but
like the zephyr, he himself did not pass over by and close to me (i.e. he passed by me).

I said to myself: “I could move his (hard) heart (i.e. arouse his affection, pity and compassion),
but”, (alas,) a mere raindrop (like my tears) would not affect a granite (i.e. my tearful appeal for
love would not touch his granitic heart).

(O beloved master!) Whosoever beheld your (fascinating) countenance, kissed my (weeping)

eyes, for this act of weeping that my eyes did, was not done without beholding your (heart-
ravishing) eyes.

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I am in a state of amazement, wondering. what for he became a close comrade of the rival, for
none has ever made a cowrie a close companion of a pearl.

Although the affliction (of love and of separation from the master) has consumed the wings and
pinions of my heart, it has expelled the craze (sauda) of love from the head.

The tongue-clipped (squill) pen of Hafiz did not reveal your (gnostic) secrets in the assembly of
gnostic stars (anjuman), so long as his head (ego) was not chopped off (of his being), O master!.

LYRIC 186 (8 VERSES)

1-8. He (my lovely master) ravished my heart and then he hid his face (from me)! O Lord! With
whom such a (cheeky) game can be played?

My night of separation (from my beloved, bewitching master) was aiming at my life, but his
image’ conferred upon me unlimited graces and favours (that sustained me).

In as much his narcissus-like eyes looked daggers at me, how could [not become like red
anemone, blood-soaked (i.e. my eyes became red with flowing tears)?

O zephyr (Divine impulse of the master)! If you have a cure (for me), this time is the only time
(for you to apply that cure to my ailment of love), for the pangs of passion of love and longing
for him is targeting my soul.

To whom shall I complain that notwithstanding my soul-consuming pangs (of love), my

physician (my beloved master) has aimed at my frail spirit?

He (my beloved master) burnt me out like the (burning) candle in such a wise that even the ewer
(that used to supply the gnostic wine to me, i.e. the disciple- in-chief of my master) began to
weep (in sympathy) and the clarion (barbat, allusion to other advanced gnostics) began to moan
and groan (i.e. strike doleful notes).

How can I speak in the company of my comrades (fellow-travellers on the gnostic path) and say
that my beloved (master) said ‘‘this’’ and did “‘that’”? to me ?

(All that I can say is that) even an enemy could not do to the (sorrowful) spirit of Hafiz, what the
arrow, shot by the eye of that beloved whose eye-brows serve as the bow (from which he shoots
his arrows at his lover like Hafiz), did!.

LYRIC 187 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O my heart! Burn (in the fire of love for the master), for your burning would do a lot of
(spiritual) work; the mid-nightly implorations exorcise a hundred evil spirits.

Take the missiles of ire pitched by peri-faced beloved (master) on the pitch (shield) of your love,
for one stroke of charisma (coyness of the beloved) compensates for a hundred acts of cruelty
and unfaithfulness (of the beloved).

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For a person who renders service to the one who is like the seven-ringed golden cup reflecting
the whole cosmos (i.e. to the perfect living master), the divinity lifts the veil from the face of all
the realms from the kingdom [of Haq, or Hoot through Hootal Hoot, the Khulu-i-Azam or void of
Infinite Darkness of Khidr or Akshar Purush, Hahoot, Lahoot and Jabroot to Malkoot (the
angelic beings in charge of births, sustenance and destruction of all spirit entities)].

The physician (healer) of (the pangs of) love has the vivifying breath of the Messiah and is
loving and kind, but ‘if he does not find you in pain (virah, longing, yearning for the beloved),
whom shall he treat and cure?

O seeker! Entrust yourself (i.e. surrender) to the care of God (i.e. God’s plenipotentiary on earth,
the perfect master) and keep your heart hale and hearty, for if the pretender (claiming to be the
real master) does not take pity on you, God (through His plenipotentiary on the earth- the perfect
master) will take care.
I am becoming weary of my sleeping luck (i.e. my current ignorance), may be that someone who
is wide awake (with full spiritual consciousness) may offer a loving (i.e. intense) imploration for
mercy on my behalf in the. pre-dawn hours (i.e. an advanced gnostic may come to my rescue
through his intercession with God and His perfect saint on the earth).

O comrade! Hafiz is incinerated (in the fire of love for the master) but he could not attain to the
fragrance of his locks of hair (i.e. his Gnostic impulse); may be that the zephyr (the Divine
impulse) may usher him into the imperium of His Majesty (the perfect master).
Note: In Mysticism, the Phrase “sleeping destiny” (bakht.i.. Khufta) implies a concept of
seminal importance. The spirit has descended from the realm of Haq (Hoot) to the fleshly realm
of Nasoot through several intermediate levels of consciousness-from Hoot to Hootal Hoot, to
the region of Great Darkness or Imperishable Deity (Akshar Purush) Hahoot, to Lahoot, to
Jabroot, to Malkoot, to Shahood and on to Nasoot. At all these levels, man’s spirit has left, as if
in safe deposit, a Part of its energy, of which it went on becoming oblivious. That part or portion
of the spirit is inoperative and is, as it were, dormant and sleeping. It is only when the perfect
living master appears in a manifest form, that makes the Spirit entity conscious of its sleeping
fortune which it would now aspire to reclaim. Gradually, under the living master’s close
guidance and supervision, the Jiva ascends to the higher level and recovers its sleeping portion it
had left in the safe deposit of that level. Thus reinforced, it goes higher up and up, until it reaches
its abode in Hoot- the region of Haq. This Concept occurs again and again in Diwan-i- Hafiz.
The reader may turn to Sar Bachan, Poetry Volume II, op. cit., Discourse 28, Hymn 2, p. 137:
“Soaa bhaag mera Jaaga aaj sakhi, "soya bhaag mera Jaaga ; param purush gury paya—My
somnolent destiny has become roused today ; my sleeping fate has Stirred from its deep slumber,
for I have found My perfect master”. Also refer to Rai Saligram’s Prem Bani, Part II, Soami
Bagh, Agra, edition 1968, Discourse 17, Hymn 72, Verse 2, p. 89: “Meher karein guru dey hain
jagaayee ; jugan jugan ka soya bhaag – By his grace my master has roused and awakened my
destiny, sleeping for countless ages.” For analysis of this concept as given above, refer; to
Bachan Babuji Maharaj, Part I, Soami Bagh, Agra, edition 1985, ‘Discourse 12, p. 65 ;
Discourse 40, p. 219; and Discourse 43, p. 240.

LYRIC 188 (7 VERSES)

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1-7. O my heart! Did you notice what the grief (caused by my passionate love for the beloved
master) did (to me) for a second time? And (did you see) how my heart-ravisher deserted me and
what did he do with his faithful lover?

Ah! What game he (the beloved master) played with his spellbinding narcissus-like eyes? What
did that inebriated eye do with people who were their normal selves (fully in possession of their
senses)?

By the unkindness of the beloved (master), my tears have coloured up (turned red like the red
glow of the rising sun); look at my unkind fate to see what he (the beloved master) did to me in
regard to this matter.

O cupbearer (the master’s disciple-in-chief) ! Give me the cup of (gnostic) wine (so that I may
become beside myself) for I don’t know what that invisible printer (nigaarindaa) has inscribed
(for me) behind the veil of mysteries.

The one who carved out this blue enamelled circle (the azure firmament), nobody knows what is
in the revolution of His compass, what He actually did (i.e. the ways of God are inscrutable and
nobody knows, for sure, what the Divine providence has in store for us).

From the veil of Laila (i.e. from the cover of darkness of the night of ignorance and delusion) a
lightning flashed (the Divine light of revelation from the beloved master burst forth); bravo (well
done)! What has it done to the (spiritual) granary of Majnoon (his crazy lover), wounded of'
heart?

The lightning of the ardent passion of love (ishq) has set the heart of Hafiz aflame (aroused
deeply), and he burnt out (became fana or self-effaced); see, what the ancient (pre-eternal)
beloved master (the plenipotentiary of the. pre-eternal Lord) did to his lover (his earnest
disciple)?

LYRIC 189 (10 VERSES)

1-5. None can put his hand into that two-stringed lock of hair (one of fana or self-effacement,
and the other symbolizing baqa or subsistence in divinity); O beloved master, no reliance can be
placed on your pledge (of redemption through fana and baqa) or on the zephyr (i.e. the
inscrutable Divine impulse that ever issues forth from you)?

Whatever (human) endeavour is capable of doing, I have expended it in quest of you, but, then,
so much is certain that the divine decree (qaza) cannot be altered.

The skirt of the beloved (master) has come to my grasp (the grip of my hand) after my heart has
gone through a hundred blood-baths (after the massacre of hundreds of my vices and vile
propensities through the fire of remorse, penances and repentance); the spell that the enemy (the
pretentious preacher and the fake abstinent) is (now) casting, cannot succeed in having the hand
of my beloved master released from my grip.

146
His (my beloved master’s) countenance just cannot be compared with the moon of the
firmament, for the moon has neither the capacity to speak up and guide you and stop you from
heading towards the pit of hell, nor the feet with which to carry you in the desired direction; at
best it is a mute centre emitting neutral light in which you can go about anyway you like, for
good or for bad. On the contrary, the perfect master has the head to stop you from heading
towards the perdition of hell, and he also has the feet to carry you through the spiritual journey
towards the divine abode); my beloved (master) cannot, in any way be related to one that has no
head or feet.

When my (spiritually) lofty cypress (i.e. my beloved master of lofty spiritual stature) gets into
the state of ecstasy, how can the garment of soul (i.e. this body and mind which are the physical
and mental, covers for the soul) dare to resist its ripping up and become subservient to him like
his own shirt (i.e. at the sight of my spiritually ecstatic master, all my faculties of body and mind
are not left with a shirt to their names ; they come a crop- per and become his thralls).
6-10.

The central issues involved in the path of love (ishq), which our (dianoetic) intellect dares to
resolve, defy our discursive reason; the resolution of that recondite’ point (ishq-i-haqiqi,
passionate devotion to the true master) cannot be attained through digressive and rambling
reasoning (for the recondite requires special, abstruse, intuitive knowledge of which the scholars
and philosophers are empty).

I feel insulted and humiliated (killed) to see that you are the beloved of the entire universe (i.e.
how much I wish to clasp you, embrace you and keep you closed in my grasp, shut out of the
sight of the worldlings); (but, then, what can I do? I am helpless for) day and night I cannot be in
a state of war with this whole creation of God.

What shall I say (or do) considering that the delicacy of your fine, subtle disposition goes to such
an extent that I cannot even offer implorations to you even in low tone (i.e. I have abandoned
dhikr-ul-lassan or recitation by word of mouth, and dhikr- ul-qutb or recitation by heart, and
taken to dhikr-ul-khaafi, i.e. silent recitation by soul or surat, or ajapa jaap which is the core of
Sultan- al-Azkar).

It is only the purified eye (cleansed of all dust, anger, greed, delusion, ego, envy, spite and
malice) that can sight the (luminous, ethereal) countenance of the beloved (master), for no eye
which is not cleansed (of these layers of rust) can look into that clean mirror (the clear heart of
the perfect master that has six faces, shat-mukhi ayeena).

O master! The kiblah (mihrab) of the heart of Hafiz is save the mihrab (niche) of your eyebrows;
in our religion (millat-i-ishq), no homage can be tendered to aught that is alien to you (i.e. we
can render obeisance only to you, my master, to none else).

LYRIC 190 (10 VERSES)

1-5. (O my spiritual comrade, the practitioner of Sultan-al- Azkar!) Do you know about what the
violin and sarangi (the “unstruck melodies” the meditation-doer hears in Hahoot) lecture to us?
They instruct; “Quaff the gnostic wine (i.e. practise Sultan-al-Azkar) in secrecy (in strict privacy)

147
for the nullifidians (i.e. devotees of rituals, ceremonies, scriptures, outmoded: practices, false
masters, the pretentious abstinent, the preachers parading Pauline virtues) stagger us (by their
ruthlessness).

They make away with (abduct and noble) the honour of love, and dignity (raunaq) of the lovers;
they smack the heads (insult and humilitate) of the young and the old lovers alike (those who are
gnostic tyros and advanced gnostics).

These (despicable, rotten) fellows have not attained to aught save the tarry (dark) heart (darkness
of delusion and ignorance), and yet they are toying with the false notion that they are making
elixir (al iksir) (for transmuting base-metel, i.e. the sinners, into gold or saints).

They admonish: ‘Don’t reveal the secrets and mysteries of love, and don’t hear anything about
them”; what a problematical tale (questionable and difficult to swallow) it is on which they
expend their rhetoric, and prate, patter and pontificate.

Again and again they vex the master of (gnostic) wine (the perfect master of the age) and curse
his age (for having. manifested a perfect gnostic master), and yet they claim to be (spiritual
seekers) | Look at these so-called seekers and see what they do (with the perfect master).
6-10.
The (perfect gnostic) master can buy off (overwhelm and make them inebriated) a hundred
kingdoms of righteous hearts by a little wink of their (bewitching) eye, but then the beauteous
(masters) in this matter are slow to a fault.

We who are outside of the curtain (i.e. the esoterics), stand cheated and defrauded by a hundred
airs (affected manners of charlatans intended to impress others); and they, the esoterics (close to
the master) staying put behind the curtain keep on speaking, heaven knows what.

(There are all sorts of gnostic seekers:) there is a group of seekers who have attained to the union
(with the be- loved master) by their endeavour and exertion (jadd-o-jehd), and there is another
class (of seekers) who have entrusted this matter to the care of the Divine decree (their destiny).

In any case, O seeker, don’t place any reliance on the stability and constancy of this phenomenal
realm (bound by time and space), for this is such a workshop which has vicissitudes and which
time makes topsy-turvy (in no time).

O seeker! Quaff the (gnostic) wine (and do nothing else, and hear nobody’s Counsel or
admonition) for if you probe (i.e. search into and question closely) you will find the sheikh (the
high Priest), the Hafiz (the one who knows the Koran by heart), the mufti (expert in and adviser
on the laws of Koran) and the muhatsib (one-who keeps account of and controls public morals)
—all of them indulge in fraud and chicanery One way or the other.

LYRIC 191 (11 VERSES)

1-6. The ignoramuses are perplexed to watch out the game of eye-picking (picking up the
choicest master) and our master’s game of making eyes at us (to look amorously and lovingly at
us), and our Sport of crying our eyes out (i.e. Weeping excessively in remembrance of our

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beloved master); I am given to the eye-game as I clearly make myself appear; others may
understand me as they like.
The worldly-wise people are the point of the compass of Existence but in the case of lovers (who
are alien to the realm of dianoetic intellect), love (i.e. the beloved master) knows that they are
circumambulating around him, within his circle (and that the Gnostic lovers of the perfect master
are not given to rotate around their own self as the worldly-wise do, becoming more and more
self-opioniated, self-focussed and self-conceited, in the process).
Just as the worldly-wise fail to understand the ways and wonts of the lovers of saints and men of
gnostic perception and sight, similarly), the men of gnostic perception are flabbergasted at the
blindness and oblivion of the bat-like blinded philosophers and worldly-wise; as it is, don’t ask
the bats about the ‘(glorious) cheeks of the splendorous sun (the beloved master).
If the Puerile form or fire-worshippers (the devotees of charlatans) were to become acquainted
with our thinking and our intuitive Processes, they would never become the mortage to a Sufi,
and accept his khirqa (Sufi’s mantle) as a security for any loan to him (i.e. they would never trust
the word of a Sufi just because he is putting on a Khirqa).
Those who boast and brag about their love (for a master) and go about grumbling and
complaining about the beloved (for his indifference etc.) what a funny sight of such a
braggadocio and their rodomontade behaviour! such love gamesmen (false and cunning
practitioners of love) are only entitled to separation (from the perfect beloved master of the
ardent seekers).
Not my eyes alone see the theatre of his luminous visage, for ‘even the sun and the moo
circumambulating (deriving their Shine) around that (shining) mirror.
7-11. O master! Most probably, it is your black (attractive, spiritually absorbing and fascinating)
eyes that would teach me stead- fast self-restraint (mastoori) and (spiritual) ecstasy, none else
can do it.
We (the gnostics) are (spiritual) destitute (i.e. we are sinners and transgressors) and yet we have
ardent desire for (gnostic) wine (mysteries) and for the minstrel (the master’s disciple-in-chief);
alas, if only these (pretentious) Sufis don’t vex us by insisting on us to accept their woollen
khirqa as trustworthy.
O master! if our ardent passion (hava) could fetch the fragrance of your locks of hair (the sweet
scent of your mystique) to the level of rapture occupied by souls (nazhat-gah-i-arwah),
intellection and spiritism would shower their whole being as an oblation unto it (your fragrant
mystique).
God has pledged our union (i.e. has tied us in wedlock) with those (saints) with sweet lips (with
the sweet, spiritual pearls of gnostic wisdom which drop from their lips); we (all the gnostics)
are His thralls and they (the perfect-saints) are our masters (agaa).
What does it matter if the (bragging) abstinent does not comprehend the (gnostic) ecstasy of
Hafiz; even the devil flees from that community which recites (and practices) the holy Koran.

LYRIC 192 (13 VERSES)

1-6. Last night, in the pre-dawn hours (of meditation), they (i.e. the beloved master and his grace
and Divine impulse) relieved me from anguish (ghussa), and in that darkness (dark hour of
torture for me), they gifted to me the Water of Life.

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From the reflection of the “purest ray serene” of Being, they rendered me beside myself (i.e.
made me ecstatic); they bestowed (spiritual) wine from the cup of the purest luminescence (of
God as reflected in the heart and soul of my bel6ved master).
What a blissful dawn it was and what a cheery (literally, laughing) night it was—that night of
(spiritual) union (with my beloved master) which granted to me a fresh-credit voucher (a fresh
lease of spiritual life).
When out of my love for his beauteous face (i.e. master’s luminous visage) I became stunned and
amazed, then, he gave me the warning from the cases of laat and manaat (idols worshipped by
disbelievers, i.e. I was warned that to regard one’s corporeal existence as permanent and not
transitory amounts to idol or form worship).
If in my spiritual mission I came good and became gay and happy, there is nothing surprising
about it; I had icon made by my taster entitled to it, and these gifts (spiritual success and
happiness) he conferred upon me as a favour ex-gratia.
Henceforth, there will be my face and the (clean, transparent and beauteous) mirror
(countenance) of my beloved master, for he made me aware of the luminance of being (God)
fully reflected in his own beauteous countenance.
7-13. O master! When in the bazaar of the grief (caused by my love for you, the bazaar where I
offered my love to you and in exchange I got grief from you) they (you and your grace)
conferred upon me the blessings of steadfast perseverance (sabr-o-saboot), that every day, the
invisible messenger (Hatif) gave me the glad tidings of my (spiritual) exaltation (daulat).
This sugar and candy which pour out of my verses is the recompense which they gave me in
exchange for my love for that sugarcane bough (viz. the sweet master).
What a wonder drug is indeed this alchemy of thraldom of the master of (gnostic) tavern (pir-i-
migham), for which I turned into dust of his feet, and he, in return, bestowed on me so many
exalted grades.
The day, the bank of ultimate beauty (of my master and his grace) issued to me their letter of
credit (unto God) entitling me to draw from His bank my emancipation, he (my master) had
reached me to the life eternal.
The moment your lover fell into the trap of the coils of your hair, he at once proclaimed: “They,
the master and his grace, have relieved me from the fetters of agony and anguish.
O my heart! As a mark of gratitude, shower the sugar of thanksgiving all around, for they (God
and His favour) have given me a beloved master, who is beauteous and has sweet disposition and
conduct.
It was the concentrated attention of Hafiz (at the master’s beauty and grace) and the spellbinding
breaths (dhikr-i-khafi or silent recitation) of those who rise early in the morning (for silent
recitation of the Great Name as revealed by the beloved master, as a mode of Sultan-al- Azkar),
that made for my emancipation from fetters of agony caused by the Wheel of Time.

LYRIC 193 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O comrade! Last night I witnessed (a queerish sight) that the (Divine) angels knocked at the
door of the (gnostic) tavern, kneaded the clay of Adam and made a goblet out of it (i.e. it is only
when man reduces his ego to dust, that he becomes a goblet out of which the beloved master can
offer the wine of gnostic mysteries to him).
The dwellers of the mansion of the mystery of (spiritual) cleanliness of the region of Malkoot
(the three spiritual tiers of the destroyer, the Creator, and the Sustainer—Shiv, Brahma and
Vishnu) offered me; the one seated on the (gnostic) path, the intoxicating (gnostic) wine.

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Thank God that I and he (my master) became one at peace with each other so that the houris,
dancing in ecstasy, drank a toast (to my master, whose beauteous name they thought would
flavour the drink).
O seeker! All those engaged in the internecine conflict amongst the seventy-two religious sects
(millat) are helpless, for they did not perceive reality (truth, the region of Truth—Hoot) but took
to beating about the bush (distracted from the path, i.e. they failed to spot the fact and took to the
path of fiction).

The heavens shrank from bearing the burden of God’s trust as His vice-regent on earth, and were
afraid of it, so that the calamity fell to my lot, I the crazy and stupid Adam (see the Koran,
XXXII, 72).

Just as the lover (of the beloved master) became stuck (infatuated) with the beauty spot on the
face of the sweetheart, the piercing shaft of ardent passion of love (for the master) shed the blood
of the lovers whose hearts are secluded from the rest of the world.

When they (the forces of Iblis) blocked the passage of Adam of clay for the sake of a single grain
of wheat, why shall we, who have hundreds of grain- stacks of greed, lust and hauteur around us,
not straggle on “the path (see the Koran, VII, 19-23)?
O lovers! Fire (of love) is not that which inflames the candle (the beloved); the fire (of love) is
that which is a flame in the granary (heart) of the moth (the lover, i.e. if the lover has genuine
and sure and pure love for the master, its flame will kindle the flame of the candle, the beloved).
Since the day my master and his grace on me have combed the hair (cleansed and purged) of the
brides of verses (of Hafiz), none else has - been able to lift the veil (of mystery) from the
mysterious face of (gnostic) reflections, as Hafiz, has done.

LYRIC 194 (9 VERSES)

1-5. During the era of spiritual domination exercised by your (glorious) visage (i.e. your spiritual
word and discourses), my heart is utterly indifferent to the rest of the (gnostic) garden
(assemblage), for it (i.e. my heart) is, hand and feet, in its (i.e. your face’s) captivity and bears
your stamp as the anemone bears a mark (daagh) in its heart (centre) & master!

My head does not bow (submit) before the bow-like eyebrows of anyone else, for the heart
(daroon) of those who are secluded from the rest of the world (save you), are utterly indifferent
(be-niyaz) to it.

During the dark night (the phase of ignorance and oblivion), how can I probe into the tortuous
windings (literally, winding within winding) of the coils (mysteries) of your hair (gnosis),
except, of course, if you throw the beacon light of your luminous countenance (i.e. your Divine
impulse) on my path (i.e. in my gnostic practices of recitation, meditation and contemplation).

I am irritated with the violet (the masquerader) that claims to understand all about the recondite
mysteries of the locks of my beloved.

O my comrade, see for once how the head of that blackguard (i.e. the despicable, contemptible
cockalorum) is turned (by vainglory and conceit)! Notwithstanding the luminescence of your

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visage, your dark lock of hair (abstruse mystique) waylays the path of my heart all the night (i.e.
throughout the night when I meditate and contemplate, I cannot make any headway in grasping
your mystique, despite the glory and light of your luminous face, despite your path-guarding
spiritual discourses); how valiant would-be the brigand (i.e. your lock of hair) which waylays the
path of my heart, even when it holds your beacon light (the light of your discourses) in its hands?
(That is, despite the light of your spiritual discourses, your gnostic mystery cludes me.)

6-9. O master! It would be fit and proper if I shed tears of joy (weep) like the rainy month of
Behman (July-August) on the quiddity (essential nature) of this garden (your spiritual
congregation), for you may see that even a crow (a vile seeker, given to contention, discord and
strife, symbolized by crow) crows over in spiritual exultation like the joyous bulbul (the ardent
lover) in its nest.

It would be appropriate if I (your lover) and the candle burning until the dawn (i.e. my
meditational practices) weep together, for while we both have burnt out (in remembrance .of our
beloved. master), our beloved master is utterly indifferent to us.

O comrade! Saunter in the garden (i.e. go about the master’s congregation) and look at the rose-
bed (the beauteous seat of the beloved master) where the anemone (the ardent seeker) stands like
the companion of the King (an elect of the perfect master) with a bowl (begging the master for
gnostic favour) in his hands.

The painful heart of Hafiz pays fullest regard to the highest standards of love, for he has neither
the desire to enact a tamasha (demonstration of love), nor the desire for the garden (save for the
rose, i.e. the master).

LYRIC 195 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O benign judge! The heaven is a drinker of a draught from your cup (i.e. the heaven is
obliged to you for its spiritual inspiration from your Divine impulse). May your heart always be
the enemy of the blackguard (the unrighteous, the unprincipled, the crooks and the scoundrels,
the masqueraders) and ever remain sub- merged in blood like the anemone (i.e. may it ever be a
red rag to ‘the bull).

The parapet of the mansion of your spiritual loftiness has become lofty by virtue of its reaching
the zenith; may it become a thousand years’ journey for the straggling wayfarers, tripping from
tergiversation.

The black standard (flag) of your locks (i.e. your Divine insignia) is the eye and lamp of the
cosmos; may Our souls, by dint of the sweet scent of your spiritual exaltation, ever be sheltered
in the folds of your locks (may remain engrossed in your Divine mysteries).

O you, the moon of the tower of justice (giving each his due, spiritual discernment that’ separates
the chaff from the grain) you are the whole purpose (end) of the son of Adam; may your goblet
(store of Divinity) and the cup (your giving heart showering grace on your disciples) always
remain full of vintage wine (of gnosis).

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When in its infatuation for your (glorious) stature, Venus takes to singing melodies, may your
enviers, by hearing of it, become the comrades of sighs and sobs, moans and groans.

May the nine layers of heaven [the Malkoot, Jubroot, Lahoot, Hahoot, the Great Void of Khidr
or Akshar Purush, the Hootal Hoot, the Hoot, the La Makaan (Anami), and the La Shareek (the
Inaccessible or Alakh and the La Inteha, Unfathomable or Agam] and the cakes of silver (moon)
and gold (sun) become the least morsel from the edge of your dining-table (your graceful
bounty).

The virgin daughter of my (gnostic) contemplation (Kunwari surat) has become wedded to you
to be ever in your company; may the jointure (mehr) for such’ a bride be determined by your
own (long) hand.

O master! Your Hafiz, through this lyric, has penned and signed away the bond of his
bondsmanship (i.e. he has signed away all his rights and free will and become your thrall in
body, mind and soul); may your slave-sustaining kindness and generosity be the witness of this
deed (document).

LYRIC 196 (7 VERSES)

1-7. It is long since my heart-ravisher has sent me a message; neither he has written a word to me
nor has he sent me his salaam (signifying peace and success).

I have sent him a hundred letters but that royal hussar neither dispatched a messenger to me nor
has he sent me a message.

Towards me, who is essentially a beast and with wits lost, he has neither sent a fast, deer-like
messenger (i.e. a communication from his heart to my heart, through Divine impulse) nor a slow
one with the speed of a red-legged partridge (chakor, i.e. a kind thought).

He knows very well that the fowl of my heart ardently desires to go out of my hand (and take
wing in wilderness, in a state of distraction) and yet he has not (cared to) send me a snare as
dependable as the snare of his chain-like locks (i.e. a gesture of love and tendresse to which my
heart could clasp).

Alas, even though that inebriated cupbearer (my beloved master), with lips sweet as sugar (i.e.
ever to deliver sweet gnostic discourses which keep the hearers spellbound) has come to know
that I am in a state of delirium tremens (a state of tremor and anxiety, exhaustion and fatigue,
and throbbing pains in joints from which the gnostic seekers some- times suffer because of
prolonged meditation, contemplation and recitation), and yet he (my beloved master) has not sent
me a cup (of gnostic wine, i.e. a spiritual message which could deliver me from this state of
anxiety).

I bragged and boasted a good deal about my experience of seeing the miracles and marvellous
spiritual regions (levels of consciousness) but he sent me no message of any kind from any
spiritual spot (level of consciousness, so that I am naturally in a state of uncertainty, doubt,
worry and anxiety).

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But, O Hafiz, behave yourself for no explanation can be sought from the king (i.e. the perfect
master) if he does not choose to send a message to a bondsman (to his ardent lover).

LYRIC 197 (10 VERSES)

1-5. Yesterday, O seeker, my master, the vintner of (gnostic) wine, (may my reference to him be
blessed,) said to me: ‘‘Come on, quaff the (gnostic) wine and erase all the grief of heart from
your consciousness (yaad).”

I replied: This (gnostic) wine would throw to the wind (will ruin) my name and fame. He
insisted: Acquiesce in what I say and let what happens, happen.

All the loss (of reputation) and gain (in fame) would slip out of your hand (on death); why do
you, then, feel sad (at the prospects of loss of reputation), and feel joyous (at the hope of adding
to your name and fame).

Fill in your cup (of heart) with the (gnostic) wine, one after the other, ceaselessly, and then prick
up your ears to what it will tell you about the story of a mighty king like Jamshed and a
formidable emperor like Kaiqubad (i.e. what they did, what they achieved, and what was their
end, so that you will see that all this was inane of anything spiritual, a vain exercise in futility).

6-10. Ardently desiring that the (restless) heart might have access to some (spiritual) relief, my
spirit has deposited the grief caused by my love for my beloved master in my chest (seena).

That person to whose face the door of every lust (desire) has opened (i.e. who runs after every
object of flesh) tell him to live ever in despair, for such a one attains to nothing (he is always in
thin air ‘and will eventually leave no trace behind).
The one whom he (the beloved master) has not given the way (allowed passage) to the (gnostic)
tavern (congregation or satsang) of his ardent love, from the (filthy, fleshly) wine (i.e. inane
spiritual talk) of such a miserable wretch, nobody can attain to the ecstasy of union (with the
perfect master and God, whose plenipotentiary he is).

O Hafiz (the one who knows the Koran by heart)! If you feel weary and sick of the counsels of
sages, I cut short the story, may you live long (in despair, depression and dejection down in the
dumps).
NOTE: In this verse the word Hafiz does not refer to Hafiz, the poet and saint; it refers to the
pretentious crammer of the Koran, whose verses he carries on his tongue as a donkey carries the
bags of scriptures on its back.

LYRIC 198 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O master! Last night, in our circle, the story of your locks of hair was being told; until
midnight the issue related to your hair was being agitated (i.e. until midnight we are engrossed in
deep gnostic meditation under your spiritual impulse).

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My heart that was wounded in blood by the shaft of your eyelashes was again longing for the
quiver of your eyebrows (i.e. my heart was yearning for yet another stroke of your Divine
impulse).

May the exalted God forgive the pleasant breeze (i.e. the master’s Divine impulse) which fetched
to me a (divine) message (mystery) from you, O master, otherwise, I had had absolutely no
access to anyone who ~ could claim to have been in your (gnostic) lane (i.e. but for your own
Divine impulse which sustained me, I would have remained high and dry, for none else had any
access to your Divine mysteries)!

This (phenomenal world) has no awareness at all, of the noise and nostalgia of love (shor-o-
shar-i-ishq, i.e. the clamour and longing of the lover to go back home, to his beloved Lord); it
was only left to the magic of your amorous ogle (your demure, playful and provocative style and
demeanour) to provoke all the commotion in this world.

Of course, I was stunned (sargashta, dazed by your coyish looks) but I was amongst the safe
ones, for the (saving) trap of my path was the folds and coils of your locks of hair [i.e. my ardent
love for your Divine mysteries had trapped (enthralled) me and took me into your safety zone.

O master! Open the cord of your kurta (your heart) so that it may fully release my heart (from
the anguish of separation); this because whatever-relief I had, was from your bosom.

I adjure you in the name of your faithfulness, O master, and appeal to you to pass by the grave of
Hafiz, for even when he was passing away from this world, he was pining away for your
(beauteous) countenance.

LYRIC 199 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O master! In the pre-eternal (before this Creation) the image of your beauty resolved on
becoming manifest; in the upshot, ishq (passionate love for your beauty) sprouted and it set the
entire cosmos aflame.

His (God’s) countenance appeared in refulgence; it looked around and discovered that the angels
did not have the instinct of love; out of (wounded) modesty, He turned into absolute fire (wrath)
and set fire to Adam who became aflame with desire (love).

The adversary (of Adam, i.e. Iblis) desired to come to the theatre where this tamasha was being
enacted; but the Invisible hand appeared (as a bolt from the blue) and smacked at the chest of the
unworthy Iblis, so that he was driven out of Paradise, for which refer to the Koran, VII, 10-31).
(Dianoetic) intellect sought to lighten its own candle by that flame (of love); but the lightning of
modesty and shame flashed and the realm of intellect became topsy-turvy (i.e. intellect comes a
purler when it tries to delve deep into the mystery of love).

O lovely master! The lofty spirit (of man) became greedy for diving into the pit of your chin (to
have a taste of the sweet limpid, Water of Life) but (in the absence of the proper rope, i.e. the
cord of your spiritual support) it began to grope (feel and search about uncertainly for your

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Divine mystery with its hands) into the coil of your locks that have folds within folds (intricate
network of Divine mysteries, gnostic mystique) and remained baffled.

There were those others who cast their lot (qurra-i-qismat) with (sensual) pleasures, but my heart
was amply experienced and quite used to suffer the pangs (of love), so that it chose the tie-in
with pain (of love).

He (God) for a while sought to look at Himself through the medium of the (phenomenal) world;
and at once He pitched in the tent in the water and clay of Adam’s battlefield (i.e. He made man
in His own image, as the crown of species with the command that through his ardent love for His
saints that would be manifest from age to age for every generation, with a new message from
Him, man could attain to Him, if he bravely battles with Devil in this world which is man’s
Kurukshetra—the field of action).

O master ! Hafiz wrote out the letter patent of ecstasy of his love, for you, the day he wrote off
all the sources (literally causes) of sensual pleasures of the heart, (in order to become entirely
devoted to the pleasure yielded by his ardent love for you.

LYRIC 200 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O comrade! Yesterday he (my beloved master) was on the move, red-faced (flushed with
embarrassment or anger), possibly because he might have burnt the heart of some grief-stricken
(lover of his) somewhere of which nobody is aware.

It appears that his routine habit of slaying his lovers and his wont of afflicting the entire city with
anxiety and tension (usual experiences of his lovers) was his garment tailor-made for him. (O
seeker! Witness this bizarre spectacle!)

The infidelity of his locks was wayling the path of wayfarers (i.e. his spiritual , gnostic
magnetism was plundering the wayfarers of their antiquated faith) and that stony-hearted
(gnostic master dead-set on casting his gnostie spell on all the spiritual seekers) was standing on
the path with the burning-torch (mashal) of his refulgent countenance.

O seeker! My (tradition-ridden) heart had collected lot of blood (i.e. lot of dead material, the
obsolescent rituals etc.) but my eyes shed the whole of it in the form of tears (shed- in love for
that beauteous master)! By God and by Jove! Who destroyed (that dead material) and who had
collected it? (That is to say, I had collected it in my idiocy and he shed it in his gnostic wisdom).

O masquerader! In exchange for this (paltry, despicable, and fleshly) world, don’t sell out your
beloved (master), for those (brothers of Joseph) who had auctioned Joseph in exchange for
gilded gold made no (spiritual) gain out of this (wretched) transaction.

He (my beloved master) regarded the spirit of his lovers as the grain of til (beauty spot) on his
(resplendent) face, and to this end, he had set aflame the fire (glory and effulgence) on his
countenance (so that his lovers may fall into it and become redeemed).

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Although in the open, he would say, “I will mercilessly kill you (by the shafts of my eyebrows
and the spear of my beauteous visage)’’; I was closely watching him and noticed that secretly his
gaze was fastened on my heart, consumed (in the fire of his love).

He said and what a beautiful word he uttered, “O Hafiz! Be gone and burn out your khirqa
(mantle of outmoded, degraded Sufism)!” O Lord! Whence did he pick up this degree of
discernment of discovering gilt from genuine gold!

LYRIC 201 (10 VERSES)

I-5. Yesterday, I got the wind of my beloved master setting out on a journey ; as it is, I will throw
my heart to the wind ; let it happen what happens.
My heart which had become used to lodge inside the curves of your locks of hair, turned so
disregardful of my breast which is the real abode of my heart, that it did not even care to ask it to
be aware (of my beloved’s departure).
O master! Whenever in the garden (master’s congregation), the wind (the master’s Divine
impusle) opened the cords of the garment of the rose-bud (i.e. when my master chose to reveal
his Divine mystery to the congregation), I became cheery in your remembrance.
Whenever I beheld the narcissus flower (i.e. your daffodil-like eyes) which the breeze put on top
of the narcissus plant (i.e. which opened to see me) my heart at once recalled the plume of your
royal crown (i.e. I was reminded of your glorious visage and head).
My love affair with you, O master! had gone to that extent that every evening I made friends
with the flashing lightning (of my love), and every morning I sighed and sobbed (i.e. every night
I became engrossed in recitation of the Great Name you had revealed, and every morning I
became engaged in hearing the soulful music of Saut-i-Sarmadi).
6-10. My etiolated corporeal being had almost slipped out of my hand (i.e. I was on the brink of
giving up the ghost) that early in the morning, the scent of my union with you (i.e. my glimpse of
your face during my pre-dawn contemplation) vivified me.
It was only today that I could make out (perceive) the worth of the counsel of my dear friends
(saints and sages who advised me not to despair of the love of my beloved master for me); may
God keep the souls of me counsellor pleased with you O master!
The hour of my rapturous delight was when I had a date with you last night—the night when I
beheld you (in the nude, i.e. when during my gnostic meditation, I beheld your glorious,
enrapturing inner form); may the phase of my youthful (gnostic) love and the company of my
spiritual comrades be ever in my consciousness.
In the course of my love for you, O master, every night (of separation from you) a thousand
agonies visited me; may the Lord every moment swell the anguish caused by my longing for
you.
O Hafiz! Your righteous and goodly disposition will fulfill your (spiritual) aim; may the souls (of
men) be sacrificed unto the righteous and goodly men.

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LYRIC 202 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O seeker! In that (gnostic) love which seeks nothing save the lightning and thunder (the
form and spiritual sound of Lahoot), if a whole granary (earlier bonds and values of the gnostic
seeker) is incinerated, it would not be surprising in the least.
The fowl (spiritual striver set on Soaring to the higher levels of spiritual consciousness) whose
lot has fallen to attachment with agony (of love), on the bough of his whole life, there would not
be a single leaf of pleasure (i.e. the path of love is no bed of roses ; it is like the ocean of fire and
the lover has to cross it by drowning into it: yeh ishg nahin aasaan, itna hi samajh lijiye; ek aag
kaa darya hai, aur doob kar jaana hai).
In the workshop of ardent love (ishq), infidelity (disbelief in everything, everyone, save the
beloved master, so that the-adherents of sharia, karm kandi vedantins, the monks, the followers
of the traditional faith sticking to the forces of Universal Mind and Madam Bubble, deem gnostic
love as infidelity and a gnostic lover as an infidel) is indispensable, for, whom the fire (of love)
will incinerate if there is no Abu Lahab (the infidel). In the ‘religion of the sellers of souls (to the
beloved master), (social) excellence and (ethical) virtues (that hide and conceal their essential
crookedness and fraudulent, fleshly disposition) do not add to their (spiritual) glory and
embellishment.
In that path (of love) there is room neither for descent (nasab) nor for breeding (pedigree and
genealogy or hasab). In the assembly (congregation of a perfect master) where the sun (the high
and the mighty) is counted as a mote, there, to regard oneself as someone in particular
(exceptional or great) will not be in accordance with the norms of culture (discipline).
O seeker! Quaff (the gnostic, celestial) wine, for if one wishes to attain to ever everlasting life
(baqa) in this phenomenal world, there can be no ways and means to it except that celestial
(gnostic) wine (I.c. the perfect living master, the emblem of gnosis and divinity).
O Hafiz! To a Short-handed (i.e. spiritually helpless) like you, the union with the beloved
(master) would be possible only on the day (light of intuitive knowledge) which would be out of
joint with night (ignorance and delusion, i.e. when you would have effaced your carnal self).
LYRIC 203 (15 VERSES)
1-7. O seeker! My heart does not take to any path save the path of love for those who have
moon-like (radiant) faces (i.e. the gnostic saints); I admonish it in every way (to avoid that path
of love) but it has no effect on it.
O counsellor! For the sake of God, talk only of the minstrel (disciple-in-chief of my master who
ever sings of the glory of the master) and the gnostic wine (i.e. discourses of my beloved
master) ; this, because in my imagination nothing gets imprinted better than this.
(What a bizarre spectacle, this!) carry the ewer (of gnostic wine, i.e. the discourses of my master)
in concealment, and these people look at it as if I am carrying the Book (old scripture)! It would
indeed be Surprising if the fire of guise (semblance and pretence) does not set this Book (old
scripture) aflame (I.e. the fire of reality of my gnosis which I practise under the guise of
traditional faith, is bound to destroy this traditional faith altogether).

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(O devil masquerading as a preacher!) Stop this counselling and let the bounty of the sound of
tenor drum and flute (the Saut-i-Sarmadi one hears in the regions of Lahoot and Hootal Hoot) be
showered on us, for in this pearl-like pure heart of mine, nothing save the truth can be imprinted.
In this congregation (of my beloved it master) I laugh even when I weep, like the candle which
laughs (emits light) even when it weeps (sheds tears, i.e. melts); like that burning candle, my
tongue is fiery but that ‘does not carry any conviction with the seers i.e. I sob and sigh in anguish
which serves right, so that people imagine that I am laughing (not crying) and that I am
becoming ecstatic].
(O witless preacher!) Look at that beauteous head and fascinating eyes (of my beloved master),
and yet (like a fool) you ask me to take off (remove) my gaze off them! Be gone (you idiot)! This
meaningless sermon of yours makes no impression on my mind.
That admonisher of the (spiritually) inebriated, who himself is at war with the command of God
(‘Come unto Me through My vicegerent on earth'), I find his heart now in his boots (i.e. I find
him depressed and down-hearted), and, then, in his mouth (full of apprehension, anguish) and
wonder why does he not take hold of the (gnostic) cup (so that he may have his heart in the right
place, i.e. become generous, kind, loving, thoughtful and righteous).
8-15. O my beloved master! How -nicely and efficiently you made a prey of my heart; I am
really proud of your enthralling eyes, for no hunter can capture a wild deer (like me who was
bewildered, staggering and running amok) in a better way than this.
O my heart! All this is a discussion between our necessity (for the beloved master) and his
unconcernedness (indifference)! Of what avail is your attempt to cast a spell on him (my heart-
ravisher by your sighs and sobs) when it produces no impact on him?
O bestower (of rare bounties)! For the sake of God, take pity (on me), for this beggar of your
street (beggar of your grace and favour), knows of no other door and cannot take to any other
way (except for the way to your door). I have witnessed the bold (stunning) marvels (looks) at
the masquerader whose mask of chicanery he does not accept in exchange for even one cup (of
his gnostic wine, i.e. one single gnostic mystery).
One of these days, I will burn out his tattered mask of cunningness with patches (of duplicity and
double-dealing), for the master of the gnostic vintners (the gnostic seekers) does not accept it in
return for a single cup (of gnostic wine).
One of these days I will attain to that mirror (the radiant, soothing countenance of my beloved
master, the fountain of the Water of Life) in the wise of Alexander (whom Khidr gave the Water
of Life in the zulmat or darkness), for if it does accept the fire (of my love), for a long time
nothing else affects him.
O my rosy cupbearer! Give me the colourful (bewitching) wine (of gnosis, i.e. captivating
gnostic mystery), for no colour impresses my heart more than this colour (of your gnostic
mystique).
Inspite of these refreshing and sweet verses (of Hafiz) I wonder as to why my, emperor (my
master of masters) does not cover Hafiz with gold (i.e. with the mysteries of golden Lahoot).

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197 LYRIC 204 (11 VERSES)
1-6. I had had a delightful dream in which I saw a cup in my hand ; divination (by oneiromancy)
made me go off my rocker (i.e. made me crazy in love for my master) and my entire (spiritual)
work passed under the care of my good luck (the emblem of which is my master).
For forty years (like the community of Moses) I had to put up with agony and anguish but at long
last all my plans became polarized in two-year old wine (i.e. in two years of my Gnostic
devotion to my master, I began to flourish spiritually).
The navel (musk of the fulfillment) of my (spiritual) desire for which I entreated to the Invisible,
I found it ‘within the folds of the musky locks of hair of my beloved idol (my master).
Delirium tremens had snatched my existence out of my hand, but my good-luck (i.e. the grace of
my master) auspiciously came to my rescue so that I found (the ghostic) wine (Divine mysteries)
in my cup (heart and soul).
Wailing and weeping, crying for justice | go to the tavern (the gnostic congtegation of my
master), for it was there that the resolution of the knots of my spiritual task began with my
moans and groans.
I drink away my blood (devote and expend all my energy on gnostic meditation) but that is no
ground for any grouse or grumble, for our daily portion (rozee) was this morsel alone on the
dining-table of the grace and favour of my beloved (master).
7-11. In the morning hours, I cast (an eye) on the rim of the rose garden (the congregation of the
lovers of my master), and lo, all the fowls in the garden (the argent seekers) were moaning and
groaning (out of ardour of their love for the beloved master).
He that did not sow the seed of love (did not fall in love with the beloved master) and did not
glean the rose of beauty (the rose among flowers, i.e. the perfect master or qutb-al-aqtub or “the
pole of poles’’), he fell down like the lightweight anemone, by a mere gust of wind (lust),
helplessly trying to word off the onslaught of wind (of lust).
The zephyr of the garden (the Divine impulse informing the master’s congregation) set fire to the
hearts of the fowls (the ardent seekers, members of the master’s congregation) by the scar that
had marked the heart of anemone (indicating the former point of attachment of it with the stem
of devotion to the master).
Before that advancing king (master) set on launching his invasion (on the satanic forces
operating on his ardent disciples), the sun, the captor of Leo (zodiacal sign, but here allusion is to
Satan, preening like a lion) on the day of combat, appeared to be inferior to a deer (the ghoul,
one of Devil’s warriors, so that my valiant master made short work of Satan operating on the
heart of the gnostic seeker, in no time).
1 looked at (i.e. heard of) the heart-captivating lyrics of Hafiz sung in eulogy of that King, and
found that each rafter (verse) from that ark (lyric which a gnostic seeker could use like the ark of
Noah to get through the rising Flood) was better (more reliable) than a hundred gondolas (a long
narrow flat-bottomed boat with a high ornamental star and a platform at the stern where the
oarsman stands and propels the boat by sculling and punting; allusion to the vainglorious

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strutters from arodomontade boastful speeches claiming them to be aeroplane tickets to fly to
heaven).
LYRIC 205 (10 VERSES)
1-5. Even if the whole world were to be earned as a recompense, a moment of affliction of
separation from the beloved master is not worth it. O worldlings! Sell my (guise o) jacket
(khirqa), for the sake of buying the (gnostic) wine, for that jacket is not worthier than that (i.e. it
would be a bargain, something bought at a low price).
In the market of (gnostic) wine-sellers (sages and saints), they don’t go in for that damned
worship-mat of (specious) self-restraint in exchange for a single cup of (gnostic) wine (mystery);
damn it, for that worship-mat is not even worth a single cup (i.e. for a single gnostic revelation).
The pomp and show of the royal crown in which is registered a grave peril to (spiritual) life, may
look attractive to (dianoetic) mind, but it is not worth the headache (for uneasy lies the head that
wears a crown).
My rival (the vainglorious abstinent given to fanfaronade and braggadocio) admonished me,
reprimanding, “Remove your head from this door (of the gnostic master)”; I am piqued, for I
wonder as to what has befallen my head which he (my rival) finds unfit for the dust of his (my
master’s) door.
O worldly king! It will be apt and proper for you to hide your (despicable) face from the lovers
(of the gnostic master), for the craze (sauda) for the mastery of this spiritual world cannot be
attained by your worry and concern for armed forces (which are the instruments of your inequity,
lust, and aggrandizement).
6-10. Wash out the traces of your spiritually shrivelled heart your lust, pride, attachments, ire,
greed, envy, spite, malice) for (what you hail as rarities of all sorts, in the unicolour bazaar (the
gnostic concept of one supreme God, without a co-partner, the peerless God), are not worth a
drop of the ruby-like (gnostic) wine (one -
The native land i.e. the region of Hoot, labour of love involved in this (gnostic process, i.e. an
ardent gnostic seeker would throw aside this entire world in return for absorption in the love of
the master and love for his native land the Hoot).
Seeking (spiritual) gain, in the beginning, the agony caused by love for the sea (of gnosis, i.e. the
perfect master) seems to be easy to put up with; but I erred. Every surging wave of that (Divine)
ocean would have far greater worth than a hundred (specious) pearls (fleshly pleasures) of this
world.
(O gnostic seeker!) Retire, and Search for the treasure of contentment and sit down in the
secluded corner of tranquility; this, because to become down-hearted and depressed for a short
while is far better than the bottomless depth of the fleshly sea of depression and the dreary
dumps of this world (that at the end deserts those whom it held dear at one time).
O comrade! Like Hafiz, strive for contentment, and Pass by this despicable (fleshly) world, for
even two hundred maunds of gold that you may gain from these wretches (despicable

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worldlings) would not be worth an iota of spiritual gain that you will make by sticking to the
company of the Saints and Sages.
LYRIC 206 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O (spiritual) comrades! The daughter of grape (gnostic Wine) has abandoned the game of
hide and seek; it (i.e. the gnostic morals, and acted spiritual tavern of the perfect master).
Coming out of veil (of secrecy) he came down to the majlis (master’s congregation); wipe off his
perspiration, so that his fellow (gnostics) may not wonder why he is fighting shy.
O my heart! Give me the glad tidings, for the minstrel (disciple-in-chief) singing the hymns of
love for the master has taken to the path of (gnostic) inebriation and cured my delirium tremens
(by giving me more of gnostic Wine).
It will be opportune if I hold (the gnostic wine) in the cord of wedlock, for the daughter grape
(gnostic wine) had observed such a secrecy inside the pitcher (the heart of the master).
The way in which the grapevine (mystic impulse of the perfect master) changed the colour of the
khirqa (the hypocrisy and pretensions) of the (wily) abstinent (i.e. made the abstinent perplexed
when found out in his deceit, chicanery and hypocrisy), shows that that the colour (of gnosis)
would not be washed out by the waters of the seven seas, nay, not even by a hundred fires. [ cf.
Sar Bachan, Poetry, Volume II, op, cit. Poos Maas, Verse 31 :
“The gnostic seed sown by the (perfect) saint in the subsoil (ghat) of consciousness of a sentient
entity (cannot be burnt out) ; where is that one who has the power to burn out (wipe out) that
seed?”
The bud on the bough of my union (with my master) blossomed by his sweet breath (the Divine
impulse in him), so that the nightingale (murgh-i-shab-khwan) went -rapturous on the petal of
the rose of joyous ecstasy (i.e. sighting the master’s rose-face, the ardent devotee became,
joyously ecstatic).
O Hafiz ! Don’t let humility slip out of your hands, for it is the envier who has’ surrendered his
reputation, wealth, heart and faith unto hauteur (i.e. his vainglory has ruined the envier’s name,
fame, affluence, heart and soul and so, O -Hafiz, escape this disaster and continue to adhere to
humility).
LYRIC 207 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O seeker! Plant the tree of love (dosti) in your heart, -for what the heart has inside of it, that
alone sprouts (outside of it), (i.e. love begets love); extirpate the sapling of hatred (dushmani) for
it begets innumerable afflictions (i.e. hatred begets hatred; Sar Bachan, ». Prose, Part Il, op. cit.,
para 17).
When you have become a guest of the (master’s gnostic) tavern, live in rapture along with the
joyously ecstatic; O my love, if ecstasy induces ‘delirium. tremens (i.e. if you cannot swallow
and digest spiritual experience of a high order, you will have anxiety, tension and headache).

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Treat the night of union ‘with the master (i.e. moments of gnostic experiences) as a rarity and
obtain the gift of cheeriness, for this Wheel of Time (charkh) would revolve a good deal (induce
vicissitudes) and bring up many a night (moments of gloom) and many a day (moments of
gaiety).
The cameleer (the Divine driving force) of Laila (the beloved master), in-whose command is the
sun and the moon (i.e. days or moments of knowledge and happiness, and nights or the moments
of ignorance and depression), O Lord, instil the urge in his heart (the heart of the cameleer of the
beloved master) to pass close by Majnun (the ardent lover of the master).
O my heart! Desire the springtide of a long life (i.e. a long spell of company with the perfect
master) for, otherwise in this garden (congregation of the master) every year a hundred
eglantines (ardent disciples) bloom, and a thousand lovers like bulbul warble.
O beloved master When my wounded heart (wounded by the arrows of love) has bound itself by
a covenant (pledge of fidelity) with your locks of hair (your loving discourses), issue an order to
your honey-like, red lips (your gracious words) to sustain my soul.
O my heart! You are thrown out of work (become inane of gnostic intelligence and inspiration)
and you are loaded with the burden of a hundred (worldly) worries; be gone and drink a draught
of (gnostic) wine which will restore you in (gnostic) business (i.c. go and embrace your master
who will vivify you once again).
God willing, in his old age, Hafiz would remain in this garden (this congregation of the master),
and on the bank of a water-stream (flowing Divine inspiration of the master), he would be in the
embrace of a beauteous cypress (a perfect, saint).
LYRIC 208 (9 VERSES)
1-9. Yesterday, from the exalted office of Asif (Solomon’s chief minister), there came a
harbinger with glad tidings that from the court of His Majesty Solomon (i.e. perfect master of the
age) a delightful signal (invitation) has come.
O my fellow travellers! Knead the clay of my corporeal being in the water of (gnostic) wine
(Water of Life), for the hour of reconstruction of (the gnostic) mansion on the ruined site of the
caravanserai of my heart has struck (i.e. my heart where worldly thoughts and fancies ever came
and went, and in the process wrought havoc and ruination of my heart, is about to be repaired
and a spiritual mansion is going to be constructed by my mason, my beloved master).
This limitless elaboration of the beauty and grace of my beloved master, which his lovers have
rendered, is just one word which has been reduced to writing out of thousands (which are left
unsaid).
O my (gnostic) wine-bedaubed khirqa! Come on and cover up my faults (i.e. conceal that
although my khirqa appears to be soaked in gnostic wine, I am basically a sinner, given to
lapses), for that (beloved master) with clean shirt (hands) has come here (in the congregation) for
pilgrimage.

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Today, since that moon who lends radiance and embellishment to the majlis (congregation) has
come to preside over it, the spiritual status of every virtuous (disciple) would become open to
him (i.e. every disciple would know where he stands).
O seeker! Look at the boldness of a despicable ant (like me) which, notwithstanding its
wretchedness, has come upon exalted throne (i.e. in the majestic congregation) of Jamshed (the
perfect master of the age) whose crown is like the niche (mihrab: for worship) for the sun!
O my heart! Keep a watchful eye on your (traditional) faith against the peril posed by his (i.e.
master’s) saucy eye; this, because that puller (shooter) of the bow (Cupid, the beauteous master)
has come with a firm resolution of pillage and plunder (of all your traditional values, in a bid to
make you his ardent gnostic lover).
O spiritual striver! The majlis (congregation) of the king (i.e. the master of the age) is a veritable
sea (and you are in it now); it is a rare of the rarest opportunities for you; realize the worth of
your opportunity here and now; O yes, O the one who has suffered a good deal of spiritual loss
(in the company and at the hands of the lewd, hypocritical charlatans), for you the time (hour) of
having a profitable trade has arrived.
O Hafiz! You are splodged and sullied, befouled and besmirched! Beg for the favour of the king
(the qutb-ul-aqtub); this, because the, the fountainhead of spiritual munificence, has descended
here to cleanse, burnish and furbish you (for taharat, gnostic ablution).
LYRIC 209 (9 VERSES)
1-5. O lovely master! When during service-prayer (namaz), the bent of your eyebrows came to
my mind, I passed to such a state of frenzy, excitement and restlessness that the niche (mihrab)
of the mosque began to moan and groan (at my plight).
Henceforth, don’t expect of me any contentment or patience, any presence of mind and
tranquility of heart, for all the steadfast endurance that you had conferred upon me has flown the
coon (left me suddenly).
The wine (that was fermenting) has become rack (vintage wine, i.e. all the dregs of my worldly
longings, yearnings and dormant. desires have been siphoned), and the fowls of the garden (i.e.
all the members of your congregation) have become ecstatic; it is the season of love-making (i.e.
our dedication and devotion has come of age) and the edifice of our love has acquired a firm
foundation.
I am getting the scent of (spiritual) prosperity from the demeanour and movement of time; the
rose (my master) has come in full bloom and the zephyr (master’s spiritual impulse) is coming
cheerily.
O bride-like spiritual virtue! Don’t complain of time anymore; decorate the boudoir of beauty
(the brid & bedroom for the shab-i-qadr or the night union with the beloved master) for your
sweetheart (the master) has arrived.
6-9. O Egyptian Joseph (master of the day) ! Don’t permit cruclty and torture on Zalikha (your
love) for it is only by dint of her love for you, that she has suffered all the injustices and
inequities.

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At his (my master’s) advent, all those disciples of his who were yet at the level of vegetative
soul, have put on (spiritual) ornaments (i.e. they have become galvanized, stimulated by the
application of the master’s electric current (Divine impulse); after all he is my heart-ravisher, so
that he has come with divinely gifted beauty. (The other interpretation of this verse could be:
While other so-called beloveds who are operating at the low level of vegetative soul have
decorated themselves with worldly ornaments, to cover up their deficiencies and flaws, my
beloved master, not requiring any external decoration, has come with divinely gifted beauty.)
Those trees (the. fake saints, the hypocrites) who are attached (to flesh) are over burdened (by
the load of their lapses and transgressions); what a cypress is Our muster who is completely
emancipated of all the woes and sufferings caused by all sorts of bondages (of honour, high
pedigree, high caste, rank and calling and power, name and fame, desire for women and children,
wealth and property, false beliefs and faiths, longings for objects of lust and of course hubris or
ego. See Sar Bachan, Prose, Part 1, op. cit., para 41).
O minstrel (disciple-in-chief)! Out of the compositions of Hafiz, sing a delicate lyric, so that I
may shout that the era of rapturous delight has come to my consciousness.
LYRIC 210 (9 VERSES)
1-5. The heart which is the reflector of the Invisible and keeps within it the (seven-ringed) cup of
Jamshed, if it loses its (Solomon’s) ring (which had a gem that told him all he desired to know),
what concern can it (the loss of that ring) cause to it for it is, in itself, by the grace of his master,
the reflector of the Invisible (see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 133)].
O seeker! Don’t surrender the (spiritual) treasure of the heart (i.e. your soul) to the (attractive)
form and beauty spots of those who are (spiritual) destitutes (i.e. you may give to them food and
clothes, and not your heart and soul); entrust your soul into the (safe) hands of the king (the
perfect master of the age), so that he may give it due consideration (cf. Sar. Bachan, Prose, Part
II, op. cit., paras 65, 83, 84,91, 133, 140, 142, 149 and especially para 194 which says :‘‘Giving
food and drink to the beggars and the erudite is quite right but body, heart and soul must be
surrendered only at the feet of your living master).
Not every tree (Sage) can endure the inequity and cruelty inflicted by autumn (by those who,
being devoid of spiritual touch, oppress the saints). I am the slave of the power of endurance
(himmat) of the cypress (the perfect master of the age, the perfect saint) whose steps are steadfast
[cf, Kabir: khod khaad dharti sahey, kaat koot banrai; kutil bachan sadhu sahey, aur se saha na
jaaye: Digging and thrusting can be endured only by the (humble) earth, cutting and hammering
can be taken only by the royal forests; harsh words can be tolerated by the sadhu (one who has
disciplined his mind and soul); no other can take them’’.
The season of gladly surrendering one’s all at the feet of the cup (at the feet of the beloved
master), by those who have six dirhams (i.e. who have conquered and tamed their six physical
ganglions-anus, reproductive organ, navel, solar plexus, throat and the nukta-i-sveda, so to say,
all those who have died to their flesh’ and have become revived or twice born by crossing the
sixth ganglion).
O seeker! Don’t have the slightest hesitation in paying the price of the (gnostic wine) in order to
acquire (spiritual) rosiness (i.e. gnostic happiness) lest the Universal Mind (Brahman, Gabriel, or

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Niranjan) may find your conduct reprehensible, suspect and blameworthy (unfit for the regions
of Jubroot and Lahoot).
6-9. Nobody is aware of the mystery of the Invisible realm (Jabroot and Lahoot and the regions
beyond); don’t invent tales; it is from the innermost recesses of the heart that the (gnostic)
knower has found the way to that (gnostic) mansion.
Look at that heart of mine which, at one time used to brag of non-attachment, but is now
engrossed in a hundred engagements with the zephyr on account of its absorption in the
fragrance of your locks of hair, O beloved master! (That is to say, its vairag or withdrawal from
the fleshly world is now replaced by anurag or love for your holy feet).
O beloved master!) From whom can I seek the fulfillment of my heart’s yearning (for gnosis)?
for there is no other beloved (no beloved master, save you) whose eyes are the theatre of
(Divine) splendour, and whose disposition and wont are (spiritually) munificent and gracious.
With the pocket of the khirqa of Hafiz, what link could be established, for he sought the beloved
Lord (becoming utterly indifferent to khirqa, emblem of false Sufism), and the beloved God is
inside of my beloved master.
LYRIC 211 (11 VERSES)
1-10. O my spiritual comrade! I will never keep my hands off (i.e. forsake) my (spiritual) quest,
so long as I don’t attain to the object of my quest ; either my heart (soul) becomes united with
my sweetheart (my beloved master) or it gets out of my body (i.e. I will rather give up the ghost
than forsake my quest for my beloved master).
O my comrade! After my death, open my grave and see the smoke coming out of my shroud
where my heart’s fire (of love for the beloved master) would be still smouldering.
O lovely master! Show up your (beauteous inner) visage so that the whole world may be taken
by storm (i.e. become overwhelmed and enthralled); move your lips (i.e. deliver your soul-
elevating discourse) so that men and women may offer (tearful) solicitations.
My soul has come up to my lips (i.e. I am on the verge of death), and my heart is haunted by that
unfulfilled desire (for union with you) which has made me dispirited so that I cannot give up the
ghost till my yearning| and longing come to fulfilment.
My unfulfilled desire (hasrat) to behold your (lovely) mouth has made me dispirited (down-
hearted and depressed); I am worried and dejected at the thought that spiritual destitute as I am,
how can your (divinely sweet) mouth condescend to fulfill my longing (for it).
O my love! (One day) I said to myself: “Withdraw and detach your heart from him’’, but my
heart replied : “(O witless!) This can be done only by one who controls oneself (since I am not
myself any more, for he has ravished and kidnapped me, I have no free will, no discretion; I have
become his thrall)”.
7-11. (O beloved master! My tragedy is that) every fold of your locks of hair has as many as fifty
hooks; how can this broken heart of mine get out of that snare. (Now, look at this distracted
zephyr.)

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Hoping that in this garden (congregation), a rose (master) like your rosy face may blossom
(become manifest), the zephyr (seeker’s impulse) comes (to the garden) and all the time it keeps
on revolving around the .garden (congregation).
In the practice of the unfaithful, we (the faithful devotees of our beloved master) cannot go in for
a new friend (accept a new person as our master); as it is, we (the master’s faithful devout) are
there, at his door-sill, so long as we don’t give up the ghost.
O beloved master! Rise (i.e. manifest yourself) so that from your (spiritually tall) stature and
your (delicate but invulnerable, stout) back, from the garden (the congregation of gnostic
devouts), a cyress may come into our embrace and we may also attain to an open, mature,
smiling pomegranate (a perfect living master).
In the assembly of (spiritual) stars (anjuman), whenever the name of Hafiz is mentioned, he is
happily remembered as one of the players of the sport of ardent passion of love (ishq- aazaam).
LYRIC 212 (11 VERSES)
1-6. He who is favoured with (spiritual) exaltation from the pre-eternal, till the end, the cup of
fulfilment of his (spiritual) desire remains the close comrade of his spirit.
The moment I thought of bidding adieu to this (gnostic) wine (i.e. to my gnostic love for the
beloved master), I had declared: “If this bough (of passionate love for the beloved master) would
bear any fruit, that would be regret [caused by the pangs of love: cf. Kabir: Jo main aisa jaanti,
prem kiye dukh hoi, nagar dhindora peet ti, prem na karyo koi- “If I had only known that love
would induce so much pain, I would have declared by the beat of drum, throughout the city (i.e.
the world) warning people not to yield to the temptation of love].
I concede that in the wise of hyacinth (sosan) tree, could fling the prayer-mat of sosan flowers on
my shoulders (to appear like a traditionalist who offers service-prayer or namaz), but then how
shall I explain (to the onlookers) the colour of (gnostic) rose-like wine on my khirqa? will they
vouchsafe my being a Muslim, a faithful (traditionalist)?
May the luminescence of my (gnostic) seclusion emit from the reflection of the cup of (gnostic)
wine (ecstasy), for it is necessary for the secluded corner of one with his heart in the right place,
to be luminescent.
As for me, I cannot sit in seclusion without the luminescence of the lamp of (gnostic) cup (heart
immersed in gnostic ecstasy); during the season of the rose (i.e. during the era of the perfect
living master), abstinence (from the gnostic wine) would be witlessness (ignorance).
Face to face with the majlis (spiritual congregation) of love (for the master) and springtide (i.e.
the showers of soul-lifting, refreshing discourses of the master), the arguments and counter-
arguments about love (that would be bizarre)! Not to hold the cup of gnostic ‘wine from the
(lovely) hands of the beloved (master) would be an irksome burden for the soul.
7-11. O seeker! Look for majestic, imposing, exalted and noble disposition (endowed with
inflexible resolution, indomitable courage and stately endurance), even if your cup of wine is not
enamelled (i.e. if you don’t have worldly wherewithal); for a (gnostic) tosspot (inebriated with

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gnostic wine), the water of grape (gnostic wine) is like the rummani (ruby-like) red sapphire
(yaqoot), (i.e. it transports its drinker to Lahoot).
O my heart! If you desire good name (neknaami), don’t take to the company of the bad; O my
life, self-assuredness (i.e. to be conceited, self-opioniated, self-centred, self-importantly) is a
proof positive for ignorance (naadaani).
(O worldling!) Although my (spiritual) work appears to you as one with nothing to sustain it (i.e.
inane, useless and fruitless) don’t treat it as easy, for in this domain (of gnosis), beggary (fuqr) is
the envy of the sultanate (i.e. even the majestic sultans of the world envy the lot of the gnostic
dervish).
O Sufi (pretending to live in seclusion)! Seclusion too is something good, provided that it has
fragrant, basil- like (gnostic) wine together with a cupbearer (gnostic master) who is inebriated
with that basil-like, fragrant wine.
Yesterday, a dear one said, “Hafiz drinks in hiding.” O darling! That sin is the best which is
committed in secrecy. (In other words, the path of love which the worldlings regard as
transgression is not sin at all; it is, on the contrary, a saving and it is best followed and treated
hidden from the despicable, sinful, hypocritical worldlings. Again, none can commit a sin in
secrecy, for God sees it all; where is the cover of secrecy from Him? What one can and perhaps
ought to practise in secrecy is gnostic meditation, which is best done when done in secrecy,
hidden from the eyes of worldlings).

LYRIC 213 (7 VERSES)

1-7. (O master !) Without your mysterium fascinans (jamaal, eternal beauty) my heart has
just no virtue (safa), in the wise of that stranger who has no friend (i.e. in the absence of your
beauteous face, my heart would be a friendless stranger in this universe). But the entire
(spiritual) wealth of the pious heart of the miserable lover (of the beloved master) is worth not a
whit in the bazaar of his (master’s) comeliness. O my heart! Seek the cup (of the gnostic wine)
and the rose-faced cupbearer (the ruby-like master), here and now, for like the’ rose, time also
does not subsist (does not last, does not continue to exist in the | same state). Although my heart
has left (me), that is no matter of concern to me for, after all, for my heart there is no place to go
except for the windings (folds) of-locks-of that beloved master. I am only afraid of my
constricted heart (i.e. depressed and down in the dumps) lest his (master’s) arrow (of love)
should shoot at a spot that it(my heart) may become incurable (rendered utterly useless for any
Worldly affair). O comrade! My beloved (master): has everything in him (you can conceive of)
but, alas, in relation to me he is not faithful (i.e. does not requit my love with the intensity with
which I love him). My soul is radiant as the moon but without reinforcement of light from the
sun of my master’s visage, the heart and soul of Hafiz is devoid of all light.
LYRIC 214 (8 VERSES)
1-8. O master! My heart is ever engrossed in love for your lips (longing to hear your sweet
discourses for there is no sweeter viand than this; see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit.; para
179); God alone knows what He has to do with your lips.

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My soul ever keeps in the cup of my heart, the sherbet of love and the wine of longing (for you).
The one who is crazy of the locks (Divine mysteries) of the beloved (master) ever stays put in the
snare of affliction (caused by the pangs of separation from him).
Is it that even the right to ask again as to the Name of our heart-ravisher does not accrue to us?
(In other words, we must be conceded the right to ask our master as to his inner Name which we
must recite while performing Sultan-al-Azkar, at different stages of our spiritual traversal).
(O worldling!) How can he who is constantly worried and concerned about the classes and the
masses (high and low, i.e. what he will gain by associating with the patricians and what he will
lose by sitting with the plebians), sit in the company of the beloved (master for whom the
patricians and the plebians are alike)?
He that ever keeps company with the majestic and exalted beloved (master) can alone have a
cheery heart.
(Look at my coyish beloved who) On his rose-like countenance, keeps the net of the violet (trap
of his locks) so that by his coyness he may prey upon someone’s heart.
Since to meet in congregation (of devouts) even for a while makes for rapturous delight, Hafiz
keeps in readiness for it with all the paraphernalia of (spiritual) rapture.
LYRIC 215 (8 VERSES)
1-8. My heart, on account of excessive pain (caused by separation from the beloved
master) does not get a moment’s respite, for through the affliction caused by remoteness (from
him) my body is being rubbed out (i.e. becoming disgraced, troubled greatly, and pulled in
different directions). If the steam (bukhaar) of unfulfilled desire fills in my gay heart, then, from
my moist eyes, tears of sadness rain. From the excess of afflictions that I have experienced, I
have become so attenuated (thin or fine) that the morning breeze just by one current, may throw
me up in the air (i.e. I have become so denuded of worldly concerns that by a single gust of
meditation my soul can soar to higher levels of consciousness). Time looks for me and wherever
and whenever a disaster strikes, my eyes sort it out and embellish it as if it is a newly wed bride
(i.e. wherever the strivers are in dire straits they rush to me for help and straightening out the
situation, under the guidance of my beloved master). In order that my two eyes may not see my
face to have become pale and etiolated, they keep on bedaubing themselves with the blood of my
heart (i.e. the more T become attenuated and etiolated physically, the more vivified I become
spiritually), so that if any ill-wisher may cast his eye on my pallid face, my face may not appear
pallid to his sight (and he may not carry the tale that Hafiz, the gnostic, is fading out).
(Meanwhile, look at my cheeky and unpredictable beloved master!) If I don’t weep, my beloved
master (sarcastically) taunts, “O yes, what need you have of me?” (That is, of course, you don’t
need me, you don’t remember, indeed, you don’t love me, for that is why you don’t weep!) But,
if I do weep, he becomes tense and winded (out of a breath, with anger and strain). (That is, if I
refrain from weeping and only writhe, twist and squirm in pain, the beloved master accuses me
of utter indifference and alleges absence of love on my part, and if I moan and groan, he charges
me with exhibitionism, dramatic hysteria to impress him, foolish display of sentimentalism, and
so on, so that I am neither allowed to writhe nor permitted to weep and cry for justice-it appears
that the wish and call of my master is that I be choked to death: na tadapane ki ijazat hai, na

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faryad ki hai ; ghut ke mar jaaooon yeh marzi mere sayyad ki hai.) O A my comrade! Don’t be
grieved like Hafiz for that imperishable, 4 everlasting God does not shut a door, unless and until
he opens another.
LYRIC 216 (8 VERSES)
1-8. I have laid down my face on his way, but he did not pass close by me (i.e. he turned a blind
eye to me); I had my eyes skinned to him, expecting a hundred favours, but he did not look at me
even once.
The flood of tears failed to wash away his contempt of me from his heart; in that cutting stone
(merciless, stony heart of my beloved master) the drops of rain of my tears had had no impact.
Last night, on account of my moans and groans neither fish nor fowl could sleep, but look at that
beloved of mine with coyish eyes who did not so much as turn his head out of his sleep
(indifference). (Fish refers to aquatic birds, i.e. those devotees who float about in the sea of
divinity; fowl refers to terrestrial birds, i.e. the worldlings who are fond of the dreamy desert of
lust and fleshly objects.
Hafiz says that my anguish of love for the master left the gnostic seekers and the worldlings
unaffected. Even my master’s stony heart was not melted and showed no pity. I must, therefore,
sharpen the edge of my love for the master).
I had wanted that I must melt away (disappear) like a burning candle, unto his feet; but, like the
zephyr, he passed by me, ignoring me altogether:
O Lord! Keep a kindly eye on that hearty, valiant youth (my master who is a spiritual warrior,
‘spiritually youthful and hot with spiritual zest), for he has not cared to take any precaution
against the missiles (flings) of sobs and sighs from the secluded (gnostics) sobs and sighs which
have an unfailing impact.
O my beloved (master)! Which is that stony-hearted, unsparing in dealing out his cruelty (to his
lovers), who did not make his very soul as the coat of mail against the strike of your mighty
sword (i.e. who was not scared of your utter indifference towards his valiant, lovers)?
Witness that coyishness (of my beloved master) which did not purge the infatuation of
extravagant passion of love out of the heart of the fowl of my heart whose plumes and Pinions
have broken in anguish and the fire of his love.
O Hafiz! The tale of your passion of love is exceedingly interesting (literally, heart captivating);
nobody would make anything out of it, save the one who has not pricked up his ears to it and
grasped it by listening to it attentively.
LYRIC 217 (14 VERSES)
1-7. (O master!) Strike the chord of some musical instrument (i.e. deliver some mysterious
spiritual discourses) so that on its accompaniment (sound) I could sigh and sob (i.e. so that it
may galvanize my love for you); recite some (meaningful) verse so that on its rhythm I could
drink some mulled (sugared, spiced and heated gnostic) wine.

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If one could lay his head on the door of the beloved (master), the loud and lofty clamour could
strike its resonance in the heaven (i.e. earnest humble obeisance to the master could stir-and
rouse even the heaven).
The mysteries of passion of love and (spiritual) ecstasy cannot be contained by convents and
monasteries (of abstinents); the cup of the gnostic wine can be shared only with the gnostics.
O master! Your locks (i.e. your mysterious divinity) has become the waylayer of the tranquility
and peace of the spiritual wayfarers! And it is not surprising at all, for if you are the waylayer, a
hundred caravans (of spiritual pilgrims) can be looted (i.e. any number of genuine spiritual
pilgrims, by the glow of your glimpse, can: get carried away and lose their wits).
If the rich prospect of union with you is set on opening some door (unto you), by this fancy, a
great many heads would readily strike themselves against that door.
O master! My double-bent (rendered double-bent in searching for union with you) appears to you
as slight and trifling, but to your opponents it looks like a bow from which arrows could dart on
their eyes. However, out of modesty I have veiled (concealed) myself.
O cupbearer (master)! Show your favour to me (i.e. make me inebriated so that I become beside
myself. I may cast away the veil and come-out into the open to hit back your opponents), and
then possibly I could plant a couple of kisses on your mouth (i.e. get inspiration from your
divinity).
8-14: If on the water-stream of my eyes, my beloved (master) could cast his shadow (i.e. if my
eyes are overshadowed by you, O master, who for me is ‘like Huma), they would shed so many
tears that their running stream, could sprinkle water on the dust of its (i.e. your) path.
For a dervish (a humble seeker) like me, the destination cannot be the mansion of the (spiritual)
sultan; for I am here alongwith my ancient jacket (outmoded values) which, of course could be
set to fire any moment (and once we do it, the prospects of my reaching his exalted mansion
would brighten).
Those who have discerning eye (i.e. who have penetrated into the nukta-i-sveda and opened the
third eye) they lose both the worlds (this phenomenal world and paradise) in the twinkle of an
eye; after all (it is no ordinary game); it is the game of love in which the first move (dau-awwal)
can be made with the cash of one’s spirit (not on the promise of payment, i.e. not by putting body
and mind at stake;) It is the spirit, nothing less than that which alone can be put at stake in the
game of love).
By (dianoetic) intellect, understanding and (discursive) reason and wisdom, a (spiritual)
discourse could be acclaimed (applauded) but it is only when the meaning of it is garnered and
gathered, that the ball of the description (discourse) can be carried off (i.e. the core of - the
spiritual discourse could be truly comprehended).
Ardent passion of love (ishq), youth (spiritual zap and pep or jawani) and (spiritual) inebriation
are the accumulated spiritual desire (as law is the accumulated wisdom of ages)! O cupbearer
(master)! Come on! (Now that you are manifest) it is the time when a (Spiritual) cup could be
drunk.

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If you know the art of divination (faal), then make a presentiment or guess about the successful
outcome of your resolve to succeed (in your spiritual mission) it is on the cards that meanwhile
you may carry off the ball of good luck.
O Hafiz! I adjure you in the name of the truth of the holy Koran to refrain from gilt (false
appearance, masquerade, hypocrisy) and guile (cunning and craftiness); (if you can do that,)
possibly you may, in the meantime, carry off the ball of (spiritual) delight and pleasure.
LYRIC 218 (9 VERSBS)
1-9. (O seeker!) Do remember the day of union of the lovers, and the beloveds! O yes, do
remember it; do remember those times of union.
During this era, nobody has faithfulness; you must preserve the fond memory of those (the
bygone) faithfuls and comrades.
By the bitterness of grief, my gullet has become bitter as, poison; do remember the uvular sound
of the (gnostic) tosspots.
As for me, I am helpless in finding a remedy for my grief; do remember the remedy for those
who share my grief.
Although my comrades are forgetful of me, and don’t remember me, from my side, I assure them
that I remember them a thousand times (i.e. every now and then).
I have become entangled into the snare of calamity (of love for and separation from, my beloved
master); O Hafiz, remember the effort (or the lack of it) made by those who had an obligation to
come to my rescue!
Although a hundred rivers (of tears) flow from my eyes, do remember the water-stream called as
zinda-ravad (ever flowing) and the garden laid close to its bank (the haghkaaran, i.e. there is still
scope for my tears and anguish so as to melt down and soften my stony-hearted beloved master).
O beloveds with rosy cheeks (sages and saints)! Day and night you must remember my beloved’s
(i.e. my master’s) locks and the cheeks of his rose-like face.
The mystery of Hafiz is better left unsaid and undisclosed after his death (for none would make
anything out of it); as it is, preserve the memory of, your confidants (who understood and shared
your secrets).
LYRIC 219 (10 VERSES)
1-5. The glad tidings have come that the days of sorrow and suffering are about to end ; when
“that” (i.e. joy and gaiety) has not lasted, “this” (sorrow and suffering) too would not last (i.e. to
say, in this world of change, it is naught which comes and stays, and it is naught which goes and
is lost.
The wheel of providence is always in motion, and the spoke that was down today would be
uppermost tomorrow and vice versa, and therefore mix trembling always with your Joy).
Although in the eye of my beloved (master) I have become disgraced (literally, down in the dust)
; (you will see that) my rival too would not remain in grace for long.

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When the veiled (master) strikes all and sundry with his (spiritual) sword, nobody would slay put
in the compound of his private mansion (i.e. my beloved master does not permit anyone to prow!
around his private chamber and disturb his gnostic practices).
O (worldly) affluent! Grasp the (gasping) heart of dervish in your hand (i.e. give away your
accumulated wealth amongst the dervishes and fakirs), for your treasures of gold and dirhams
(gold coins) would not last.
O candle (master)! Count the union of the moth with you (i.e. the burning of the moth in your
flame) as something rare (for not every lover of yours would efface his “self” until one like the
moth, unites with the candle), for this (love) affair (between the candle and the moth) would not
last even till the break of dawn'(for by that time the devout would have died to his flesh and
become vivified and reborn, dvija).
6-10. The harbinger from the invisible realm (Gabriel) has fetched the glad tidings to me saying :
‘‘On his (your living master’s) gracious door, nobody (i.e. no lover of his) would remain
downcast and dejected.”
On the balustrade (terrace and railing) of that azure heaven, it is written in water of gold:
“Naught would last except the goodness of men of munificence and charity.”
The people say that the melodious rhyme sung in the assembly of Jamshed was “Bring up the
goblet of (gnostic) wine (that is perennial), for Jamshed (himself) would not last.
Where is the room for gratitude and grouse (shukr-o-shikayat) for the traces (deeds) of the good
and the bad (respectively), for none would remain a captive of grief forever.
O Hafiz! never despair of the grace and favour of the beloyed master, for neither the mark of
love (of the despicable worldlinas) nor the trace of their oppression (nishan-i-sitam) is going to
survive.
LYRIC 220 (12 VERSES)
1-6. O beloved master! Even the (radiant) moon does not have the lustre of your visage; face to
face with you, the rose does not have the sheen and liveliness even of a leaf of grass.
(O spiritual king!) Keep a close watch on the side of hearts (of your lovers, who constitute your
spiritual dominion and are your armed forces), for the (spiritual) sultan (the perfect master of the
age) cannot preserve his (spiritual) kingdom if he does not possess their array of troops.
O master! I have noticed that black-hearted (i.e. absolutely absorbing) eye that you keep, and
which does not so much as cast a glance on your lovers (i.e. on the one hand, you absorb the
attention and wits of your lovers by your piercing eye; on the other, you are so utterly indifferent
towards them as not to cast even a glance on them).
O the king of the beauteous (saints)! O qutb-ul-aqtub (pole of the poles)! Cast an eye on your
lovers (i.e. show them some favour out of the unlimited treasury of spiritual grace); for no king
(i.e. no other saint) has the (spiritual) force (sipah) that you possess.
O lovely master! I am not the only one who is unable to endure the high-handedness
(inconsiderateness) of your locks (that are so awesome and divinely charismatic); who is there in

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the whole universe who does not bear the scar inflicted on his heart by that bruising blackish
(eye of yours).
Witness the cheekiness of that narcissus (eye-like flower) which dared to open before you
disdainfully; that split eye (narcissus) does not pay due regard to your eye, so shameless and
impudent it is!
7-12. O adherent of the (gnostic) tavern! Give me a heavy goblet, full of (gnostic) wine, to
celebrate the (gnostic) wedding of the sheikh, who has deserted the monastery (i.e. who has
abandoned the hypocritical abstinence and has turned a gnostic, wedded to the perfect gnostic
master of the age).
O comrade! Ask the one who does not follow the path to this door (the portal of the master’s
tavern or congregation) to vanish and to soak his sleeves in the blood of his liver (i.e. damn him
to the doom of perdition).
Hush! and see what the smoke rising from the smouldering fire of love in my heart, does to your
(clean, beauteous) face, O master, for you know very well that the mirror (i.e. your mirror-like
cheeks) cannot stand to the smoke rising from the sobs and sighs of their lover.
(O ardent lover of the master!) Continue to drink the blood (of your heart) and hold your peace,
for that tender heart (of the master) does not have the stamina to hear the cry of justice raised by
the seeker of justice.
(O lovely master!) The corners of your eyebrows are the theatre (the only theatre) of my eye;
even a (majestic) king (of this world) does not have a more beauteous angle.
O master! If Hafiz has prostrated before you, don’t find fault with him, for he who has lost his
(traditional) faith to the passion of love and has become a nullifidian or disbeliever in formal
religion), for him prostration (before the beloved master) is no sin or transgression at all.
LYRIC 221 (13 VERSES)
1-7. The happy tidings have come announcing the advent of springtide and the sprouting of
verdure (i.e. the perfect master has become manifest and the seekers are vivified once again); if
(spiritual) relief (reinforcement) comes, it must be expended of the rose (the perfect master) and
the (gnostic) vintage wine.
The birds (the spiritual strivers) have begun to chirp; where is the (ebullient) duck of (gnostic)
wine (the darling master); the bulbul has raised a ruckus by its warbling with trills and runs (i.e.
the ardent lovers of the master we calling him aloud) so that it has rent the bosom of the rose i.e.
at the agonizing calls of the ardent seeker, the master has become manifest to relieve them of
their writhing pain and agony (tadap); .cf. Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 106].
O comrade! This day, you must glean roses (divine secrets) from the cheeks of ‘the moon-like
cupbearer (master), for around the fringes of the fragrant garden (congregation), lot of violets
have sprouted [bluish (depressed), flowers (seekers) with irregular showy petals and Shrinking
(shy) all of which must be pruned and set in order].

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The charismatic coyness of the cupbearer (master) has snatched my heart out of my hand in such
a wise that now I don’t have the face to speak to anyone or to hear anyone (i.e. making a
complaint against my lovely master or hearing his defence is neither here nor there).
I am going to burn out this rose-like coloured patchwork of a garment (khirqa, tattered and
mended with patches which gave it the form of a rose an emblem of hypocrisy), for that master,
the dealer in (gnostic) wine, has not bought it even for one draught of his gnostic wine!
On the path of love (gnosis), don’t take a step forward without a path-guide (perfect master,
well-acquainted with the ups and downs of the path, its lanes and bye-lanes) for in this path,
anyone who could not take to a guide; just vanished (was lost in wilderness and consumed by the
fire of perdition).
What savour from the celestial fruits will a person receive, who has not sliced: the apple of his
beloved’s chin (which is the cure for every disorder of every description and is the apple of
perpetual youth, by tasting which the gods preserve their youth).
8-13: Don’t grudge and grumble about the anguish of pain for of those who have taken to the
course of discipline (disciplining their body, mind, faculties, senses and soul), nobody who
sought to escape tears, toil and trouble, could attain to any relief (succour).
O spiritual fellow-traveller! The path of love (for the master) has a great many marvels and
surprises; this path is a dense forest before a deer (i.e. before an ordinary disciple of the perfect
master), from which even a male (ferocious) lion (i.e. Satan) ran away!
O the beacon of light (lighthouse, perfect guide) on the path to Divine abode! For the sake of
God, help me, for the end of this (dense, deep and dangerous) forest of love is not in sight.
My heart could not glean a single flower (a single divine mystery) from the garden (master’s
congregation) of my ardent desire; perhaps the zephyr of undeserved grace and favour
(murawwat) could not visit this garden (i.e. if I had succeeded in picking up even one gnostic
mystery from this congregation of my beloved master it would have been a grace from him
which, in my case, would have been wholly undeserved).
O comrade! Quaff the (gnostic) wine, and pass on the golden cup (of gnostic wine) to the Sufi,
for the king (the perfect master of the age), in his grace, has pardoned and reprieved the crime of
the Sufis (the crime of hypocrisy and dogmatism).
O my lovely master! The spring is passing (ending); shower your grace and turn your favourable
attention towards me, lest it should be said that the season has passed away and Hafiz has not
tasted the (gnostic) wine up to this moment.
LYRIC 222 (10 VERSES)
1-5. The day (time) of parting and the night of separation from the beloved has ended; I tried
divination through stars: and discovered that the adverse star has passed and my mission has
come good.
The autumn (i.e. my spiritual adversity) which used to preen and derive malicious pleasure by
oppressing me has come to an end by virtue of the advent of spring (the perfect master) at long
last.

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Henceforth, we will bestow (spiritual) light out of our own (illuminated) heart (and soul) upon
this spatial world, for we have attained to that sun (the supreme source of light and luminescence
the perfect master) who has wiped the floor of our heart and soul of all the (blinding rain of) dust
(of delusion, ignorance and bewilderment) with his radiance (i.e. our ignorance has been
decisively defeated and eradicated by our master).
That anxiety and anguish of long nights (of separation) and that affliction of the heart all that
vanished into the shadows of my beloved master’s lock of hair (naughted by the subtle Divine
mysteries revealed by my master).
O cupbearer (beloved master)! May you have a long life and may your cup (heart and soul) ever
be full with (gnostic) wine, for at your instance, my torment of delirium tremens (my anxiety,
depression, frenzy, i.e. khumar) has come to end.
6-10. Thank God that by the charismatic power of the cocked hat of rose-bed (master’s
congregation), the hauteur and conceit of the cold wind and the pomp and show (braggadocio) of
the thorns (charlatans) has been wiped off.
On account of the (habitual) bad faith (breach of trust) of (vicissitudinous) Time, I am not yet
certain that the chapter of my woes and sufferings in connection with my union with my beloved
master has come to a close.
Ask the morning of hope which was secluded in the invisible veil, to come out into the open, for
the business of the tarry (dark) night (of delusion and darkness, fears and apprehensions) has
been wound up.
Even if the knottiness of my (spiritual) mission was caused by (the mysterious, incomprehensible
subtlety of) your knotted locks of hair, the resolution of my knot has also emanated from the
radiance and beauteousness of your visage, O beloved master.
Although nobody reckoned with (nondescript) Hafiz (i.e. everyone counted Hafiz for nothing), I
am grateful that that infinite and incalculable tribulation of mine has passed away.
LYRIC 223 (8 VERSES)
1.8. Last night, the secluded abstinent went to the (gnostic) tavern and disregarding his pledge of
abstinence from the cup (of gnostic wine), he straight headed for the cup.
In his dream appeared a beloved that would fascinate youth, so that once again, in his old age, he
became a frenzied lover, crazy for the beloved (master).
That (spiritually) youthful master was acting like a waylayer of his (dianoetic) intellect and
(traditional) faith, so that he (the abstinent) trailed behind that beloved, alienating himself from
all the rest.
The fire of the cheeks of the rose (i.e. the beloved master’s glow) burnt out the granary (all the
accumulated merit earned through traditional rituals and practices) of that bulbul (lover); the
flaming (literally, laughing) face of the candle (the glowing beloved) became the bane of the
moth (lover-something that causes misery or distress).

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It is gratifying that my weeping every morning and evening (in the remembrance of the beloved
master) has not gone waste, and that the drop of my rain (tears) has become transmuted into a
unique pearl (i.e. my tears. stirred the feelings of compassion and mercy in the master’s heart so
that he has begun to show his grace and favour to me).
The eye of the cupbearer (beloved master) has chanted (cast) a spell on me by a single (spiritual)
discourse so that our round receptacle of his (spiritual bounties) began to revolve around his
(gnostic) cup (i.e. his spiritual discourses).
The Sufi of the (traditional) majlis who used to break (damn and curse) the cups and goblets (of
gnostic wine) in his dianoctic wisdom only yesterday, turned (spiritually) wise and intelligent by
one single draught of the (gnostic) wine he drank last night.
Now, the destination of Hafiz is the Lord’s sanctuary, for his heart has gone to his heart-ravisher,
and his dear soul to (the master of his soul, i.e.) his sweetheart (i.e. the beloved master, God’s
plenipotentiary in the Creation).
LYRIC 224 (9 VERSES)
1-9. -What a, blessed moment it would be When my beloved (master) comes back again
to me, and if according to the ardent desire of those in distress, the sharer of their grief comes
back to them. In front of the royal image of that (spiritual) king, I brought forward the Kantaka
(the white horse of Prince Gautama, the Buddha) of my eye in the hope of luring that (spiritual)
royal hussar (a gallant, armed horseman) into coming back. In expectation of his arrow, the heart
of the fowl of his prey is flapping its wings, fancying that he (the hunter, the master) would come
back to prey upon it. Like dust, I have settled down on his path, in expectation that he might
come back through this way. The heart which has pledged itself in union with his hair divide, O
Hafiz, don’t even imagine that that (restless) heart would ever be restored to rest and tranquility.
If my head cannot fit in like a ball in the range of the strike of his bat, what shall I say about that
(worthless) head, for of what avail would be that, head? None can even surmise what sorts of
afflictions and ordeals inflicted by the month of December (cold weather, i.e. the phase of
separation from the beloved master), the bulbuls (lovers) had had to face, just in the hope that the
springtide (the perfect master) might .come back. My tears would not surge like the waves of the
sea, if only his (delicate) back were to return into my bosom once again. O Hafiz! I have fastened
my hope with that engraver of the prints of destiny, expecting that that beloved may come to
decorate and embellish my palm with myrtle leaves.
LYRIC 225 (10 VERSES)
1-10. For years together, my heart has been asking me for the (seven-ringed) cup of Jamshed;
how bizarre? For it kept on desiring from others what it had inside of it.
In other words, it sought from those who were lost to themselves and were outside the sea of
divinity (i.e. those who were spiritually ecstatic) that pearl (divine mystery) from the oyster that
was outside the realm of time and space.
I brought up all my difficulties and problems before my (gnostic) master, for he used to solve all
riddles by the power of his insight. It was like a lover who had lost his heart (to his beloved
master) and had God before his eyes all the time and in all states, although he was not able to
perceive Him and from afar he would cry: “O God! O God!”.
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I saw him laughing and gay with the (gnostic) cup in his hand, and in that mirror he was.
watching the hundredfold tamasha which this phenomenal world is [cf. Sar Bachan, Prose, Part
II, op. cit., para 76: “The tamasha of this jagat (jahan, phenomenal world) is fully revealed to the
saints; no other has that power of vision.”
I asked him: “When did that (Divine) providence (Hakeem) gift you this cup which could
perceive the entire cosmos?” He replied: The day when He created this ennobled, embellished
dome (the heaven).”
So to say, the sleight-of-hand and the conjuring tricks which the (dianoetic) intellect performs
here in the phenomenal realm is like Samiri’s conjuring tricks exhibited before the rod of Moses
(that turned into a python to swallow the Pharaoh and his hubris) and before the egg-shell spot in
the palm of Moses (yed-i- baiza) by seeing which the ailing were cured of their illusions. (In
other words, the conjuring tricks performed by man’s discursive season are as worthless as the
tricks of Samiri when confronted by a lover of God, i.e. Moses, whose rod and egg-shell spot in
his hand would make a clean sweep of Samiri and the haughty Pharaoh. Dianoetic intellect fades
before love.)
My beloved master said; “That beloved (Mansoor) whose spiritual majesty lifted the head (i.e.
honoured) of the Zallows, his crime was that he exposed his hidden mystery (when he announced
An-al-Haq, I am God).
If only Gabriel’s favour and grace were to come to the rescue of others, they would also be able
to do what the Messiah was doing (the visions which Gabriel revealed to Daniel and Mary, the
mother of Jesus, and to Jesus himself. So, it is all a matter of grace and favour by the Ruh-al-
Qadas, the perfect master of the age).
I asked him (my beloved master): “Do you know what the end of this (endless) chain of the
beloved’s lock (i.e. its divine mystery) is?” He (jovially) replied: “Lo, Hafiz was complaining
against this dark (mysterious) night (shab-ul-qadar, the night of union between the lover and the
beloved master)!’’
LYRIC 226 (9 VERSES)
1-9. For years together, our charter of deeds remained mortgaged to the vintage wine (of gnosis);
indeed the sheen (and splendour) of the (gnostic) tavern emanated from our master’s instructions
to us and our implorations to him (for his mercy).
Look at the (leniency and) goodness of our (gnostic) master, that what the extended
(unrestrained) ecstatics like us did was found apt and appropriate by his kind and generous eye.
Our (carnal) heart (i.e. mind) like a compass, one arm of which was extended (unrestrained), was
wandering around every direction, drawing circle (seizing everything fleshly on which it could
lay its unrestrained hand) and perplexed in that circle, while the other arm acted as the pivot
(stationary reference point) concentrated on the beloved master.
I was blooming in rapturous delight, for like the rose blossomed on the bank of a river, I had, on
my head, the shadow of that lofty cypress (that would never grow less).

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My (beloved) master of rosy colour in regard to those blue fishes (the sharks, the charlatans, the
spiritual quacks), did not allow any discussion, otherwise there were many a skeleton in their
cupboard (scandalous facts, stories and events in the past that is kept a secret).
O comrade’! Wash down the whole book of my (dianoetic) intellect by the application of
(gnostic) wine (so that my gnosis may come out in the wash and become known or apparent);
this, because I have noticed the sphere (sky) lurking (moving stealthily and quietly) for taking an
aim at the heart of the worldly-wise.
(In my master’s congregation) the minstrel (his disciple-in-chief) in pain of love was plaintively
singing such a lyric (ghazal, love song) that it made the eyelashes of the wiseacres of the world
blood’ soaked.
O my heart! If you are a connoisseur of (the art of) love, then seek the beauteous beloved alone
from the beauteous beloved; I say this because it has been said by him who was an expert in the
art of perception.
The gilded (counterfeit) coin of Hafiz (i.e. his hypocrisy and mask) could not be used before him
(i.e. wasn’t found acceptable by him), for that settler of all affairs (my perfect master) was the
perceiver of all hidden faults, Haws and foibles.
LYRIC 227 (10 VERSES)
NOTE; This lyric has internal evidence to show that this was composed by Hafiz at the
instance of the ruler of Bengal, Sultan Ghyas-ud-din. According to legend, when he became
indisposed, three maids called as Cypress (Sary), Rose (Gul) and Anemone (Lala) were engaged
as masseurs and help him wash and bathe. Their close attention to the Sultan led to raising of
eyebrows and caused hiccups in the royal palace. The Sultan found the situation a fit subject for
a lyric and he is reported to have composed the first hemistich but could not complete the lyric.
He sent it to Hafiz requesting him to finish the unfinished task. Hafiz is reported to have
composed this lyric in deference to the Sultan’s wishes.
1-10. O cupbearer! The tale of Cypress, Rose and Anemone is being narrated; this is a tale which
concerns three bath-givers.
Give me a cup of (gnostic) wine for a newly-wedded bride of this garden (my master’s
congregation, presumably referring to Ghyas-ud-din as anew gnostic member of the
congregation of Hafiz) has attained to the highest level of (spiritual) beauty; in this age, it is only
the craft of an intermediary (gnostic wine that unites the gnostic lover with the gnostic beloved)
that goes (i.e. that comes good).
All the parrots (poets) of India would be enraptured by the candy of Persia (Iran, i.e. this sweet
lyric) that is being dispatched to Bengal.
In the mellifluous gnosis (suluk) of everyone of its verses, you will find the inner layers
(substratum) of space and time, for this, child conceived and delivered in a single night, is going
on the way that is one year’s travel (i.e. by pondering over the reconditeness of gnostic lyric, the
wayfarer would achieve in one night what otherwise he would take a year to appreciate and
apprehend).

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From the fragrant garden (gnostic congregation) of the king (the perfect living master) the spring
zephyr blows, and from drops of dew. it fills the ‘goblet of anemone with (gnostic wine, which
qualified it. for the region of Lahoot).
Look at this bewitching (fascinating) eye that infatuates and dupes even the devouts (i.e. the
looks of this fleshly, bewitching phenomenal world, delude even the devouts); a veritable
caravan of sorcery trails behind it (in hot pursuit of it).
The one who is fleeced and bled white by this sorceress (this world), in perspiration saunters
along with it and on the cheeks of jasmine (the one who boasted of the scent of his righteousness
and fairness) by his shame-soaked face (i.e. disgraced face), drops of dew seem to act as drops of
sweat (i.e. even men proud of their ethical conduct are brought to a sweat by this Madam
Bubble).
O seeker! Don’t be complacent with the coyness (amorous looks) of this (fleshly) world, for this
wretched hag sits down out of her slyness (to persuade you to believe that she is no longer
interested in running after you; but, then, it chases you with all her wiles and. guiles).
O striver! Don’t behave like Samiri, who in his asininity gave away his gold (his spiritual wealth
of the company of Moses), abandoned his faith in Moses and went after a calf of saffron hue (see
the holy Koran, XX, 85-88).
O Hafiz! Don’t hold your tongue out of your enthusiasm for the court of Sultan Ghyas-ud-din
and don’t desist from crying (unto your beloved master), for all your (spiritual) business runs by
your moans and groans (for mercy and compassion of your beloved master).
LYRIC 228 (11 VERSES)
1-6. Why is my strolling cypress (my master, tall and: beauteous as cypress) not inclined towards
the garden (the congregation of his ardent devotees) ? Why does he not sit close to the rose (the
advanced devotee) and does not remember the jasmine (his fragrant, righteous lover).
Since the moment, my wandering heart, fettered in the chain of his (master’s) locks, left me,
from its long journey it does not remember its native land (i.e. it has lost interest in its own
worldly affairs and became an exile from its fleshly domain).
I cajole the bow of your eyebrow (to shoot the arrow at me-and make short work of me) but it
has become ‘tensile and secluded, and in its indifference does not lend ear to me.
When by the touch of zephyr (worldly pleasures), the locks of violet become distracted and
become coiled (indulgent), ugh, I am utterly disgusted to find that I do not recall about the
breach of the pledge of alast.
I am surprised that the zephyr, notwithstanding all the fragrance of your skirt does not transmute
the dust which you trample, into musk of Khotan.
If my cupbearer, having silvery calf, (instead of giving gnostic wine) were to give a potion of
poison, I wonder if there would be anyone who would not make his entire body into a goblet (i.e.
everyone would quaff and gobble it most enthusiastically).

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7-11. In the hope of union with you, my heart keeps off the company of my soul (i.e. my body
remains here while my heart flees from it in the hope of union with you); meanwhile, my soul,
in-ardent desire for your lane, does not care for the garden (congregation, i.e. my soul becomes
tied up with your lane and does not even resort to the congregation).
Yesterday, (when) I complained to him against (the injustices committed by) his locks of hair (on
his lover), beguilingly he replied ‘‘This black crook (blackguard) does not lend an ear even to
me” (i.e. its divine magnetism is beyond me; it does what God directs it to do).
O beloved master! Don’t fly off the handle and don’t disgrace the water of my face (i.e. tears)
out of hand (beyond control), for even the favour and bounty of the nimbus, without the
reinforcement from my tears, would not make for the pearls in the Gulf of Aden (i.e. my tears
shed in love for you become a-source of great delight, happiness and bliss to the dwellers of the
Garden of Eden).
O master! By the impact of your clean and righteous skirt (i.e. being), even the zephyr has
become’ pomander soaked, and yet it does not transmute the dust of the violet-bed into the musk
of Khotan (i.e. why does it not make a poor lover like me to become the musk of Khotan?).
O Hafiz! He that did not prick up his ears (to the perfect master’s exhortations), he was killed by
his amorous ogle (i.e. evasiveness); he who does not comprehend (the express word of the
master), the punishment for him is the sword (of indifference by the master).
LYRIC 229 (7 VERSES)
1-7. When those who (i.e. whose spirits) have the fragrance of jasmine (i.e. whose spirits are
sincere, righteous and earnest), sit together (in a congregation), they brush up the heart by
sweeping off all dust (of delusion); when the peri-faced ones (the saints and sages) become at
odds (at variance or annoyed), they snatch the rest (peace) out of the heart (of those with whom
they become, at odds).
When by a troublesome saddle strap they tie a pack on the back of the horse, they tie it firmly i.e.
when the saints, in order to tame the refractory horse tie it with the strap of spiritual discipline,
they do it very carefully; and when they (beloved masters) by their musky locks of hair jolt and
jerk the hearts (purging them of all the dirt and filth), they bump them very skillfully (so that
they bump along in jerks and jolts).
When front my eyes, the bright ruby-like tears rain, my master laughs up his sleeve (in self-
satisfaction at my gnostic progress up to Lahoot); when he perceives the secret script (of the
Divine) on my face, he decodes it.
In the whole life, if he sits along with me even for a moment, he rises (to leave); but when he
does sit along with me, he plants the sapling of ardent passion of love in my heart.
He who, in the wise of Hasan bin Mansoor Hallaj, is hung up on the gallows (for the crime of
declaring, “I am God”- An-al-Haq), he attains to his spiritual mission (of emancipation from
flesh, manas and maya), for those who pine (for spiritual emancipation) and are yet looking for
(superficial) remedies (instead of totally surrendering their body and mind to the master of the
age) are lost and damned.

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Those who are the recipients of tears (grace and favour and compassion of the secluded lovers of
the master) of the secluded souls (secluded from the fleshly world) become the recipients of
(precious) pearl (gnosis) and if they become the perceivers (knowers) of the worth (spiritual
majesty) of the (spiritual) sorcerers (the perfect saints), they never avert their face from their
love.
In this (majestic) court (of the perfect master of the age), when the ardent lovers present their
(spiritual) credentials, respect and necessity (niyaz), they (the saints) feel proud of them, so that
even when they drive Hafiz out of their (majestic court, in good humour) they call him back."
LYRIC 230 (10 VERSES)
1-5. At the dawn (i.e. during my morning meditation), my roused destiny (roused from its deep
slumber, for which refer to the note at the end of Verse 6 of Lyric 187, ante) came up to the side
of my pillow and said: ‘‘Rise! That secret Khusroe (the loving master of yours) has arrived.
Quaff from the (gnostic) cup (of your meditating heart) and in ecstasy, saunter, and behold the
tamasha (i.e. behold his lovely, glorious visage) so that you may perceive with what splendour
and gorgeousness (spiritual majesty) your beloved master has come.
O secluded one, who receives (spiritual) fragrance from the (musky) navel (breath) of the
beloved master! From the forest of Khotan (i.e. Hoof) the musky deer (the qutb-ul-aqtub) has
come.’’
On the face of those burnt (in love for the beloved master), the water of weeping (i.e. tears) has
restored the (lost) glow ; so to say, the lover’s moan and groan has come as the succourer for the
miserable lover. (As Kabir says : “He who has found the Lord has found Him on the way of
moans and groans; none has found Him on the path of laughter.”’)
O my comrade! The fowl of my heart is once again an aspirant for that beloved master whose
eyebrows are like a bow and whose ambuscade, the concealed position from which he launches
his surprise attack on his prey, lies in the soul, in the heart, and in the (traditional) faith of his
lovers (whom he preys upon).
6-10. O pigeon of my heart (timid; easily frightened and yet given to display)! How long will
you go on somersaulting (reversals of position and opinions, tergiversations and equivocations)
in the air (in a vacuum, i.e. how long will you keep on indulging in exercises of futility,
instigated by your dianoetic intellect and discursive reason), and display your vainglory? O
pigeon-livered (i.e. O my discursive reason)! Become alert and watchful, for the gerfalcon (the
perfect master) has come.
O cupbearer (advanced gnostic) | Give me the (gnostic) wine and entertain no worry from the foe
or the friend, for strictly, in accordance with my desire, he (the foe, the pharisaical abstinent, the
agent of Devil) has gone away, and the friend (my beloved master) has walked in.
In celebration of my wedding (union) with that peri-faced beloved (master) give me vintage wine
(the rack) made out of pomegranate, for the wine red as ruby (the impulse from the Lahoot) is
the medicine for my afflicted heart.

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When the nimbus of springtide witnessed the habitual breach of trust (deception, duplicity and
fraud) of the wheel of time, it burst into tears (it burst into heavy rain) at the (undeserved) plight
of jasmine, lily and eglantine (advanced gnostics, progressing to higher levels of spiritual
consciousness).
When the zephyr (the Divine impulse in the beloved master) heard from the bulbul of what Hafiz
was talking, he (i.e. the master himself) came diffusing the fragrance of ‘ambergris all around, in
order to watch the tamasha of all types of flowers (in the garden, i.e. in his congregation).
LYRIC 231 (11 VERSES)
1-6. A star shone up (allusion to Mohammed, the master of the age) and became the moon of
majlis (congregation of the devouts); for our wandering (astray) hearts, he became a comrade
and loving companion.
My beloved (master) never went to a school to read (and study); he never picked up the art of
writing; by his simple amorous ogle, he became an instructor of reconditeness for a hundred
teachers (instructors, i.e. he became a master of masters, qutb-ul-aqtub).
The (empty) rapturous mansion (literally, serai) of love will now become full, for the niche
(taaq) of the eyebrows of my beloved master has become the designer (mahandas or architect) of
that mansion.
The sickly heart (afflicted by love) of the lovers, soaked in his fragramnce (spiritual scent my
beloved master has become the designer (mahandas or architect) of that mansion. The sickly
heart (afflicted by love) of the lovers, soaked in his fragrance (spiritual scent of the master) in the
wise of zephyr, has become fascinated by the cheeks of eglantine and the eye of narcissus (i.e. by
the captivating visage and kindly eye of the master).
Lo, my beloved master makes me sit on the president’s svat on the dias of the (gnostic) tavern!
Look at this beggar of the city whom he has elevated to the seat of mir-i-majlis (the president of
the gnostic congregation)!
For the sake of the Lord, wash down your lips (from which lust drips) with the (gnostic) wine, O
Hafiz, for me thinks that my heart is being assailed by a thousand devil’s slanders and yearnings
of lust.
7-11. O master! Your (gnostic) charisma poured such a spirit (sharab) into your lovers that. their
(discursive) knowledge was stunned (rendered unconscious) and their (dianoetic) intellect
became comatose (beyhis).
This spirit fabricated (inspired) the fancy of the water of Khidr (Water of Life) and of the cup of
Kaikhusroe (son of Siavash, the cup famous for inspiring him towards God before he died); by
sipping one draught of this spirit, a sultan (an advanced gnostic) attained to (spiritual) perfection
of Abul Fawaris (the great Lord of life and wisdom, the Creator of creators, God of gods the one
who created everything out of naught save Himself so that His power and grace might be thus
displayed).

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O seeker! Like the gold, my verses are the darling of existence; their universal acceptance by the
tallest of the tall (gnostics) have shown them up as the elixir (alchemy) for transmuting every
copper (base material, worthless spiritual seeker) into gold (a perfect gnostic).
O lovely master! My heart and soul and whatever I had, your two eyes have carried away; in
sooth, any (worldly) affluent who took to the company of the (spiritually) inebriated (saints)
became a pauper (from the worldly point of view, albeit a king, from the spiritual point of view).
O my (spiritual) comrades! Rein in (stop the horse by pulling on the reins) from the (worldly)
path to the (gnostic) tavern, for Hafiz treaded that path and came a cropper (from the worldly
point of view).
LYRIC 232 (8 VERSES)
1-8. If the cupbearer (the perfect master of the age) pours the (gnostic) wine (divine mystery)
-into the cup (heart of the disciple), by his own hand (his own favour and grace), he would (by
his showers of love and munificence) make all the gnostics as (spiritual) tosspots (i.e. would fill
their heart with love; cf. Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 243).
If, beneath the folds of his locks of hair, he (the beloved master) would show up his beauty spot
as a bait he would (by this bait) tempt many a fowl of (dianoetic intellect) into his (gnostic) trap
(i.e. even the beauteous outer form of the master would have a stunning effect on the discursive
reason of those who are intellectually sharp and would make them gnostic).
The proper time for drinking the (gnostic) wine (i.e. for practising gnostic meditation), that
would illumine the morning (i.e. that would intensify gnostic luminousness to perfection) is the
hour when night (complete privacy), all around the horizons, drops the curtain (i.e. the hour
when all one’s faculties and senses, mind and soul are completely withdrawn from the worldly
pursuits).
O seeker! In the daytime, endeavour to practise the cultivation of (ascetic). virtue and spiritual
discipline (for that would prepare you for Sultan-al- Azkar which is best practised in the strict
privacy of night), for drinking (gnostic) wine in the day (i.e. practising Sultan-al-Azkar in the
daytime when the world crowd into your attention) coats your mirror-like heart with the rust of
darkness (the rust formed by the action of oxygen of spirit and moisture of lust).
What a cheery state would be of that ecstatic gnostic, who while prostrating before the beloved’
master would not even know of whether he has cast down headgear or his head (cf. the verse:
sijde ki khalish kuchh itni badhi, sar rakh diya unke qadmon par; hum uth ke wahan se chal bhi
dive, par sar ko uthana bhool gaye ‘‘such became the intensity of the ardour of my desire for
prostrating at his feet that I instinctively laid my head at his feet; I had risen and left his place but
then I discovered that I had forgotten to lift my head which I left there).
O (traditional) abstinent! Lift your head to the level of the nook of the headgear of the radiant
sun (the perfect master); may be that your luck may smile and the constellation of your stars may
make you into a full moon (deriving all its luster from that sun). But the raw abstinent (ignorant,
immature, inexperienced) remained tempted to his denial (of the perfect master and stuck at
nothing save to his vainglorious, inane abstinence); he could have become fully baked, mature
and perfect (notwithstanding his abstinence) if he were to cast a glance on the” cup (heart and
soul) of the (gnostic) wine (i.e. the perfect gnostic master, love for whom would make him truly
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abstain from all sensuality; so to say, anurag or love for the perfect master would give him a rich
dividend of vairag or abstinence, gratis, as a reward ; see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para
219).
O Hafiz! Don’t ever drink in the company of the city’s Controller of Public Morals (don’t take
the worldlings in confidence about the gnostic secrets), for he would drink (the gnostic wine, i.e.
would formally hear your gnostic words) but would throw stone on the (gnostic) cup (your
master whom he would jeer, sneer and revile).
LYRIC 233 (14 VERSES)
1-7. At dawn, when the king (the perfect master) of the east (the region of Haq or Hoot or
Satt Desh) unfurled his flag on the range of mountains (i.e. when the advanced gnostics got busy
at dawn, in meditation on Haq or Satt Naam, as revealed by my beloved master), my beloved
(master) by the hand of his compassion, knocked at the door of the (gnostic) candidates
(seekers). When in the morning (i.e. when the gnostics experienced the spiritual revelations in
their morning meditation), the reality of the state of the so-called kindness of the sphere (this
vicissitudinous world) became exposed (by the light of spiritual revelation), the dawn broke (i.e.
the revelation removed the bewilderment of the gnostic seeker) and it laughed -like a drain (i.e.
loudly and coarsely jeered) at the hubris and hauteur of those who bragged of their (worldly)
success. Last night, when my beloved (master) with a mind to dance (in spiritual ecstasy, "i.e.
with a mind to deliver the flood of his gnostic discourses), rose in the majlis (congregation), he
untied the knot of his locks (i.e. gave an exposition of the recondite gnostic points), and knotted
(the decorative bow of that reconditeness) on the hearts (and souls) of his comrades (with the
ribbon of his love). By dint of the colour of correction (effected by my master), I washed my
hands off the blood of my heart (i.e. got rid of the anguish of my heart) only when he (my
master) sounded the tocsin to the (worldly-)wise and upbraided them (for their cunningness).
Who is that iron-willed that taught him the crafty skill (ayyaaree) with which he looted and
plundered (the wits of) those who were wide awake in the night (i.e. were bliss- fully ignorant),
the moment he came out? (That is, my master, the moment he resolved on showing his spiritual
craft, outwitted and got the better of those whose wits were sharp and who were wide awake and
well-equipped against all gnostic arguments and their spiritual onslaughts.) I brooded and
browsed upon the image of a royal hussar (the saint), and he left; O Lord, keep a watch on him,
for he is mounting his assault on the heart of horse-riders (the vain-glorious. who brag about
their spiritual pretensions). With my (duplicitous, deceptive but frail) woollen khirga, how can I
ravel him (entangle) in my noose-that one who is putting on the coat of mail of (beauteous) hair
(subtle spiritual mysteries), and every eyelash of whose eyelids has struck down the swordsmen
(i.e. whose Spiritual coyness has outwitted the tall, formidable intellectuals)?
8-I4. O master! My gaze is fastened on the angle of your beneficence and the security
that accrues from your spiritual exaltation. O master! Fulfil the ardent desire of your lover’s heart
(for union with you), for it (my heart) has worked out the divination of the lucky ones. My
master has the pomp and show of King Muzaffar and he is the valiant knight commander of this
world and the world beyond; he is (spiritually) a conqueror and his unstinted (spiritual)
munificence has made a fun of the charity and generosity of spring-tide. Since the day I had had
the privilege of receiving a cup of (gnostic) wine from his hands, Time itself has gobbled up the
goblet of commemorate the (gnostic) tosspots. (The sun of) victory achieved by his decapitating
sword (the sword that chops off one’s ego) shone up the day when like the star-consuming sun

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(the perfect saint in whose spiritual splendour the sages and seers become evanescent as the stars
fade away in the radiance of the sun), he lashed out on thousands (of dianoetic, egoistic,
supercilious intellectuals, with his gnostic, recondite sabre). Goodness knows what an excellent
being of my beloved (master) is who since the day he assumed the colour of corporeal existence,
the excellence of his pure soul has enlivened the (gnostic) abstinents. By the grace of the shine
and. beauty (literally, water and colour) of his (divinely radiant) cheeks, we drank blood (i.e. we
fell head over heels in love with him) and we surrendered our life (body, mind and soul) unto
him; the day he became manifest, by his writ (naqsh) he wrote off the bad debt of those who had
surrendered their lives unto him (i.e. his faithful devotees were redeemed). O Hafiz! Implore the
grace of Haq (the deity of Hoot), soliciting the everlastingness of his (spiritual) dominium and
life, for time has struck the coin of this (spiritual) dominion in the name of the spiritual hussars
(the perfect saints who are the Sovereign rulers of the entire cosmos).
LYRIC 234 (10 VERSES)
1-10. Early in the morning, the bulbul (lover of the perfect master) explained to zephyr (master’s
Divine impulse): You must have noticed what our love for the rose (our beloved master) has
done to us!
I am the slave of the wish (himmat) of that sweetheart (naazneen, my beloved master) who saw
me through (my spiritual mission) without any fear or favour.
Blessed is the morning zephyr (grace of God) to him who cured the pain of those (i.e. who
closely guided and superintended the spiritual practices of those) who sat out the night (in
meditation, contemplation and recitation Sultan-al-Azkar).
I have no grudge or grouse against the strangers, for whatever they did to me (or did not do) was
done (or not done) by my beloved (master). (For instance,).
If he Opens the cord of the garment of his bud (i.e. if he speaks up and talks), he at once covers
the rose (his face) with his locks of hair dense and deceptive as the lily plant i.e. either my master
does not “speak, but if he opens his lips, he veils his divine mystery by words into which it is
impossible to penetrate and comprehend what he really means. So to say, the words of a saint
can only be fully comprehended by a saint (see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part I, para 68; and Part II,
para 203)|.
Again, by his colour (style) and face (diction) he made my blood run cold (filled me with horror
of perdition in the context of my transgressions and forced me to see things in their true colours).
By the bright and lively colours of that rose-garden (his rosy discourses) he put me on thorns (i.e.
made me thorny, placed me on tenterhooks, fearful and anxious that something is going wrong).
The bulbul (lover) whose heart has been ravished (by the beloved master) is moaning and
groaning in all directions, while in between, the zephyr has been all fun and frolic (gaiety and
merriment in the company of the rose, the beloved master).
If I entertained great expectation from the Sultan, I erred; if I looked for fidelity from my heart-
filcher (a saint) he visited cruelty on me instead (i.e. he disappointed me).

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Out of all the khwajas (the elite) of the city, if someone showed me the favour of faithfulness, it
is that one who is perfection of Faith and Fortune (deen-o-daulat), par excellence, Father of Faith
(i.e. my perfect beloved master).
O comrade! Carry the glad tidings to the lane of dealers in (gnostic) wine saying that Hafiz has
forsaken the (fraudulent) abstinence and chicanery (of a sharper).
LYRIC 235 (8 VERSES)
1-8. The phantasy of my infatuation with you, O master, is turning my head (making me
dizzy and giddy, with a reeling sensation, with a feeling that I am about to fall) ; look at me to
see what is coming to pass inside my distracted head (mind). Whosoever fastens his heart with
the bat of your locks of hair, ineluctably, he winds about in wilderness (rolls about) without his
head and feet (i.e. uncontrolled by Ins discretion and tree will), in the wise of a ball (driven by
the man who holds the bat). Although my heart-ravisher (i.e. my beloved master) inflicts
injustice and faithlessness upon me, my heart, nevertheless, in expectation of faithfulness, trails
behind him as usual. A hundred times, by dint of the unfaithfulness of the Wheel of Time
(sphere) and the anguish caused by space (dauran), the khurta (shirt) of steadfast perseverance
(patience) covering my body becomes ripped up (into small pieces). My helpless body (tan-i-
bechaara), on account of asthenia and infirmity (naheefi-o-nazaaree) has become like the new
moon which becomes the butt of fingers (i.e. which can be identified by putting one’s finger on-
it, or which can Iet slip through one’s fingers). In separation from the rose garden of his (rosy)
face, the bulbul of my proclivity, for a long time past, has been turning around (wandering in
wilderness) without plumes and pinions and without warbling (i.e. loitering about, wobbling idly
in other words, unprotected and unsustained by the beloved master’s spiritual charisma, I lost my
voice and my support be barg-o-nawa). O master with cypress like stature and cheeks red: as
anemone! In their longing and yearning for you, there are a great many stranded and distracted
who, like me, are turning about here and there. O master! The heart of Hafiz, in the wise of
zephyr (your Divine impulse) stays put in your lane (in your grace and favour); it is in pain but it
is revolving around you in expectation of the healing drug.
LYRIC 236 (7 VERSES)
1-7. (My) cupbearer (perfect master) has filled my cup (heart and soul) with (gnostic) red
wine once again; in my old ancient vintage Wine (i.e. pre-eternal pep and zap) he has added a
pinch of (gnostic) opium (to make it more exciting, more stimulating, more fascinating so that
with this new spiritual touch of the loving master, I have lost faith in the old rituals, old
obsolescent practices and dogmas). He was serving the ancient wine (the primeaval mysteries of
gnosis) to others in equal measure (i.e. to all alike), but when he reached me who had become
evanescent from his carnal self, he added more into my cup (heart and soul, i.e. he took special
notice of me and made me quaff the gnostic wine with some more added). This goblet (i.e. this
revelation of Divine mystery to me) carried away my senses and wits, once and for all; that wine
(that Divine mystery) this time made me wholly beside myself (i.e. he overwhelmed and
enthralled me with revelation of his Divine mystery of which 1 did not have much awareness
earlier). O seeker! Don’t imagine that in my cup and marked goblet (having the marks and
measure of pegs), my stony- hearted beloved (master) has mixed the blood of his liver (i.e. his
inmost divine identity) now, for the first time. In my wounded chest (wound inflicted by the
pangs of love for him), that thing which you deem to be my heart, is (not heart; instead, it is) the

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commotion and clamour of my ardent passion of love, which soaked in the blood of my liver, is
acting as marijuana. When on the day of Creation, He (God) entrusted me to the spiritual expert
(my beloved master), He instructed others in the art and science of (dianoetic) intellection
(khirad), but me He made me, crazy (of Himself, i.e. He made me a Majnun of His). O lovely
master! The heart of Hafiz, that was so far safe and secure, at rest and in tranquility from the
spell of your lips, your bewitching eyes have once again cast their spell on it.
LYRIC 237 (8 VERSES)
1-8. When at the break of dawn, zephyr gathers the fragrance of my (gnostic) comrades, the
garden, on account of the grace and purity of the zephyr, catches the scent of heavens.
The sound of violin (the Saut-i-Sarmadi of Hahoot) strikes such an inviting and cheerful note
that the sheikh of the prayer-house (mosque, temple and church) takes to the path to the door (of
the gnostic’s congregation).

When the ruler of the firmament (the sun, reference to the perfect master) puts on the golden coat
of arms on his shoulders (appears in full spiritual splendour before the congregation of devouts),
by dint of the sabre of morning (his Divine refulgence) and the pestle of horizon (infinite Divine
mystery reflected on his face) takes possession (i.e. fascinates) the whole world.
The gerfalcon who sits on the “lote tree of the utmost boundary” (the Koran, LIII, 14), much to
the annoyance of the black crow (symbol of satanic forces of contention, discord, strife, ego and
lust) makes a nest in this lofty, azure fortress (the hospice of the devotees, i.e. the perfect master)
in order to cheer and guide (the gnostics in their spiritual processes).
O seeker! Stroll in the assembly place of the garden (i.e. the congregation of the devouls) for it is
an entertaining show (tamasha), for there you will see the anemone (the rose-faced gnostic,)
holding the gnostic cup for eglantine and syringa persica, absorbed in Sultan-al-Azkar).
What a haal (state of ecstasy) it is that the rose, early in the morning reveals its face (putting the
splendour of the morning to shame); what fire (of love) it is that sets aflame the bird chirping in
the morning (i.e. the fire of love stimulates those who are reciting the Great Name).
What light (and sound) it is which is refracted in the morning lamp (i.e. those who meditate early
in the morning refract a wonderful light and sound from the Invisible); and what aflame it is
which sets the candle of the heaven aflame (i.e. the heaven’s flame owes its refulgence to the
flame of light emanating from the gnostics).
If the head (heart and soul) of Hafiz is not inspired by the image of the king (his perfect master),
how can he by the power of the sword of his lyrics (discourses), carry away (enrapture) the
whole expanse of this world?.
LYRIC 238 (11 VERSES)
1-6. If the beloved (saints) continue to ravish the hearts of people in this wise, they would, for
sure, pollute the (obsolescent) faith of the (traditional) ascetics.

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Wherever that bough of narcissus blossoms (i.e. wherever the glance of the saints goes), the rose-
faced (gnostics) make their eyes as the holders of that narcissus (i.e. they get carried away by the
fascinating looks of the saints).
When my beloved master makes up his mind to hold an assembly of sama (lyrics sung to induce
a state of spiritually frenzied, ecstatic whirling dance), the angels in empyrean (Alam-i-Jabroot)
begin to applaud by clapping their hands.
If the perfect living master were to burnish and furbish the mirror (of your heart) and make it as
clean as the morning, the sun of your (spiritual) fortune would rise.
The balls of my eye became soaked in blood (by my tears shed in the remembrance of my
beloved master); whence does he inflict such injustice and cruelty (on his lovers) ? (O lovely, all-
powerful master!)
Your lovers have no control on their minds (i.e. they have no ego, no will of their own, for they
have surrendered it all at your feet); they do what you command them to do.
7-11. O seeker! Those (concocted or exaggerated) tales (of so-called spiritual attainments by the
pretenders and miracle-performers, sorcerers and performers of sleight-of-hand) which take the
vulgar by storm (i.e. which overwhelm and enthral them) are, in my view, despicable and more
worthless than a drop (or a mote).
O master! Cast a look by both of your eyes (on your lovers) so that without any let or hindrance.
(corporeal) death may become an easy affair for those who have lost their hearts to you (i.e. so
inspire your lovers with your gnostic looks that they may efface their carnal selfs and die to their
flesh in no time and the easy way).
O master! Where is the Id of your checks (i.e. when will you permit your lovers to kiss your
checks in order to become divinely inspired by their light and fragrance), so that in keeping their
faith in you, they may sacrifice their heart and soul (and attain to the state of hairat, full
absorption in love).
O young aspirant with the stature of cypress! Hit the ball (off your own bat, i.e. hit the spiritual
jackpot by your effort) before they (your proclivities, old karmas, samskaras) make a bat of your
stature i.e. before you become double-bent due to old age, develop bats in your belfry and
become eccentric and lost; cf. Kabir: Sadhobbai, jeewat hi karo ashaa; jite karma ki phaans na
kaati, mooye moksh ki asha--"O sages I Hope (for redemption) while you are alive and kicking ;
if you do not break asunder the noose of karma (cause and effect) while you are alive and:
kicking, to expect redemption, lying in your death-bed will be moonshine”.
O my heart! Wriggle out of the embarrassing situation of your agony and anguish (and devote
yourself to the feet of the living master in ardent love and service, surrendering everything you
have unto him), for those who know the secret of gnosis and emancipation from flesh and
delusion, even by (burning) in the melting pot of separation (from the beloved master) enjoy and
remain gay and cheerful.
O Hafiz! Don’t turn your head (i.e. become conceited and vain, and withdraw) from midnightly
sobs and sighs, so that these sobs and sighs may refurbish the mirror of your heart, giving it the
lustre of the morning.

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LYRIC 239 (9 VERSES)
1-9. The undiluted rack (clear wine as by siphoning it off from the dregs) and the cheerful
cupbearer (i.e. the infectious and fascinating gnosis and the charismatic gnostic master) are those
two traps, laid on the way, that none in the world howsoever astute he is (zeerkaan-i-jahan) can
get off the hook.
Of course, I am a (sordid) lover, a (filthy) ecstatic, and have a charter of black deeds; it is a
matter of a thousand satisfactions that my friends of the city (who name names and subject me to
name-calling) are sinless (i.e. these sinners see in me their own reflection).
O worldling! Do not look down upon the beggars of (the majestic court of) love as contemptible,
for this (distinguished) band comprises of the kings without insignia and they are the uncrowned
kings (of the republic of gnosis).
Unfaithfulness and inequity is not dervish-like and is not the wont of gnostic wayfaring (tariqat).
O comrade! Fetch the gnostic wine (and ignore these rabid. lustful abstinents), for these (so-
called) seekers are not the warriors of the gnostic path.
O earnest seeker! Do not practice duplicity and hypocrisy (characteristic of person which
apparently has a long neck, slim body and a grey or white plumage but which really is ever ready
for preying upon the small creatures), otherwise the sheen and charisma of belovedness would
break down (would become ineffective) and the devotees would flee like (rebellious) attendants,
and the bondsmen would become supercilious.
I am unicoloured (consistent in my loyalty, never changing colours, not given to tergiversation)
and I dance attendance on the drinkers of (gnostic) wine; I am not a thrall of that gang who wear
blue (signifying Divine eternity, human immortality, chastity, loyalty, fidelity and spotless
reputation) as their badge but are (really blue beard, merciless tyrants, like the blue fish or the
shark and) black-hearted (i.e. black as a crow or raven which is a symbol of contention, discord
and strife).
O seeker ! Don’t step into the (gnostic) tavern unless and until you have acquired the discipline
and culture of reverence to the master, for the dwellers of his portal (his congregation) are the
confidant and the Elect of the King (almighty God).
Have your wits (presence of mind) about you (i.e. prescribe your ability to reason and act
quickly), for when the wind of indifference (of the master) blows, a thousand granaries of
homages are worth half a barley (i.e. don’t ever parade pontifically your homages and spiritual
distinction before the master; all arrogance is bad but the arrogance of one’s love and dedication
is the worst).
The majestic mansion of love (i.e. the beloved master) is very lofty and exalted; O Hafiz, keep
your chin up (i.e. be steadfast and endure patiently the pangs of love), for no lover (worth his
Salt) takes to the path of those who lack fortitude, courage, steadfast perseverance, patience,
deep concentration and alertness (i.e. the path of love is not meant for the spineless, the lily-
livered, the poltroon and the caitiff).

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LYRIC 240 (11 VERSES)
1-6. (O simple-hearted seeker!) The beloved (master) is not the one who has (beauteous) locks
and a delicate (attractive) back; become the thrall of that face which has a curious charisma (a
special personal quality or spiritual power making him capable of inspiring large number of
people; a divinely bestowed spiritual power and talent).
The wont of a houri and peri (coyness, amorous looks, sly, deceptive blandishments) may appear
to be beautiful and graceful, but beauty and grace is that which such-and-such (i.e. my perfect
living master) has.
O blooming rose (my master in full bloom)! Get into the running fountain of my eyes (from
which tears flow out of the heat of fire of love burning in my heart), for that fountain, in
expectation of you, keeps the limpid water in full flow.
An astute fowl (i.e. a gnostic seeker who has insight, spiritual acumen, perception and
shrewdness) does not take to warbling in the garden of a charlatan who has an autumnal past to
chase him (i.e. who has a skeleton in the cupboard, a scandalous fact or event in the past that is
kept a secret).
O master! In the skill of archery (the skill with which you shoot your lovers with your arrows of
love), the bent (curve) of the bow of your eyebrows snatches the bow from the hands of everyone
who holds the bow (to counteract your arrow of love; i.e. your arrows render the defence of the
target totally ineffective and he is shot down dead. In other words, he falls head over heels in
love with you).
Who can snatch the ball of beauty out of your hand (i.e. who can win and carry off the prize in a
contest of love with you), for even the sun, when it comes to the arena of love, is not a rider that
would have the rein in his own hands (i.e. no saint or sage in this cosmos can thwart you in your
game of love with your ardent lovers).
7-11. Since my verses have met your approval, O master, they have naturally become agreeable
to all hearts; O yes, O yes, why not? for poetry of love makes its mark and leaves its own mark
(impress on the heart and soul of the reader).
In the path of love, none for sure, could decipher and know all the mysteries and everyone makes
a guess according to his lights (ideas, knowledge, under- standing and competence).
O crafty swindler! Do not brag and bluster about your conjuring tricks (karamaat) before the
companions of the (gnostic) tavern, for there is a place for every piece of braggadocio and there
is a time for every subtle stroke of gasconade.
O master! Although my eye has running water flowing out of it, (ignoring that water), the ball of
my eye takes ablution from the dust of your door.
O comrade! Ask my adversary (muddayee) to be gone and not to indulge in hair-splitting before
Hafiz (refrain from making petty distinctions making the trash appear as subtle spiritual points);
after all, my pen can also shout and shriek (literally, has a tongue to speak up) and has the power
of analysis (bayan).

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LYRIC 241 (12 VERSES)
1-2. What is the worth of drinking (gnostic) wine and experiencing (spiritual) delight in hiding?
All this is an affaire (not a permanent engagement) lacking firm foundations; that is why, I have
in full public view, cast my lot with the ranks of the (gnostically) inebriated, come what may.
O seeker! Untie the knot of your heart (the knot of jad or gross matter and chaitanya or supreme
spiritual force, in which the gross matter has twisted the spirit, out of shape and is sucking the
spirit’s energy, depleting it and turning it away from its source. This knot can be untied only
when one crosses the nukta-i-sveda and dies to his flesh, under the close supervision of the
perfect living master who alone would reveal the ism-i-azam on the wings of which the spirit
would wriggle out of the clutches of mind and body, and soar riding on the Al Burraq, like the
Prophet); and don’t bother about the stars, for this knot has never been resolved by the
speculation of any astrologer (i.e. leave the stars to their fate, and attend to the perfect master,
seek his grace, get busy in Sultan-al- Azkar, and get your knot resolved by his favour and grace).
3-12. And don’t be outwitted and perplexed by the vicissitudes of time (the changing states or
phases of waning and waxing, depression and delight, ups and downs), for this Wheel of Time
(charkh) has, in its long memory, thousands of such tales (of fluctuations) and talismans
(fasaana-o-afsoon).
Hold the (gnostic) cup with profound respect and (spiritual) discipline, for its structure is from
the skill of the heads of stalwarts like Jamshed, Kaikubad and Baheman (i.e. that gnostic cup
from my beloved master is far beyond the majesty of these kings).
Who knows whither have Jamshed and Kaikubad gone? Who knows how was the throne of
Solomon thrown to the wind (destroyed) ?
(But, on the contrary, witness the exalted faces of the lovers, for) I notice that in the fire of
unfulfilled desire (hasrat) for Shirin, out of the grave of Farhad (her lover) even now sprouts and
sparkles the red anemone (to vouchsafe the everlastingness of love).
It seems to me that anemone has fully grasped and understood the faithlessness of this fleshly,
fluctuating world, for that is why, since its birth and until its death (withering) it never
relinquishes the cup of red wine from its hand (i.e. any gnostic who has experienced the futility
of this world confined to time and space, became devoted to Lahoot of rosy complexion and
never deserted the path to Lahoot).
As for me, O comrade, the fragrance of the dust on which I lay my prayer-mat, and the limpid
(spiritual) water of Rukn- a-Bad do not permit me to wander away and embark on a journey for
sight-seeing and relaxation.
O comrade! Come! Do come, please, so that we would become spoiled (from the worldly point
of view, i.e. inebriated) for a while by the (gnostic) wine; may be that from this Kharab-a-Bad
(literally, ruin, but refers to the gnostic tavern or master’s congregation where only those stay put
who have forsaken the world and whom the world has forsaken), so that they may stumble upon
some (invaluable Spiritual) treasure.

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On the notes of soulful melody of tenor drum and violin (the Saut-t-Sarmadi of Lahoot and
Hahoot), quaff the rack, for my beloved master has joined up the cheery heart with the silken
fibres of (spiritual) ecstasy.
O pharisaical abstinent! Don’t find fault with me if I don’t relinquish the cup of (gnostic) wine
from my hand, for no comrade more chaste and righteous has come to my hand, ever.
Whatever befell Hafiz on account of the pangs of love (for my beloved master) has come to pass;
(to me it. does not matter), but may the wounding eye (i.e. the evil eye) of Time (i.e. this fleshly
world) may not come in contact with the (other) lovers (of their beloved masters).
LYRIC 242 (9 VERSES)
1-9. A (fake) Sufi laid his trap and opened the magic chest and contrived his sleight-of-hand in
collaboration (with the active support) of a top conjurer (the ruler of the day who was his patron).
In playing his conjuring trick with the Wheel of Time, he was putting all his eggs in one basket
(i.e. he was staking everything, all his reputation, on a single venture) that would expose his
trick, for he exhibited his sleight-of-hand before the one who knew of his conjuring tricks.
O cupbearer (i.e. O my master)! Come (i.e. manifest yourself) for the tricksy beloved of the
cheeky Sufis has appeared once again and has begun to swank and swagger.
Whence has this minstrel (the fake Sufi) hailed, for he is striking the note of Iraq (a spurious
note, strutting about to impress others) and is planning to go back by the way of Hejaz (to lend
conviction to his pretensions).
O heart! Be circumspect so that we may go into the sanctuary of God, in order that we may
escape a few tricks that Sufi has up his shirt sleeve (i.e. the conjuring tricks of that short-sighted
Sufi suffering from spiritual myopia, and lacking foresight as well as insight) and which he is
exhibiting high-handedly (for he is tactlessly overbearing and inconsiderate).
O seeker! Don’t indulge in craftiness and speciousness (deceptively attractive and artistic in
appearance), when it comes to the business of love, for he that did not play the game of love true
to its norms, love flings open the gate of ordeal to his heart (i.e. love puts a false lover to a severe
and trying experience so that he is doomed to perdition).
O red-legged partridge (the lover of the moon or the perfect saint) that is preening (on his love
for the beloved master)! Don’t be taken in (i.e. don’t be enthusiastically impressed by and
infatuated with) by the trick of the cat of the prayer (one who prays) who showed the cat
rendering service-prayer (namaz). (The allusion is to a contemporary Islamic jurist, a protege of
Shah Shuja, the ruler of Persia, who performed the trick of his cat rendering namaz to impress
people by his specious spiritualism.)
When tomorrow the curtain is lifted and the theatre would show up the reality, that trickster
would come out in his true colours (revealing his proper character, divested of all that is
meretricious), and that spiritual pilgrim who fastened his gaze on this meretricious (majaaz,
sensuality) would be put to shame (would be disgraced).
O Hafiz! Don’t malign those spiritually ecstatic for in the pre-eternal, God had made us (i.e. the
gnostics) indifferent to (specious) abstinence and chicanery.

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LYRIC 243 (9 VERSES)
1-9. If the Sufi drinks (the gnostic wine) in reasonable proportion (to his gnostic mission), it
would be fine for his soul, or else he would run the risk of becoming oblivious of his (gnostic
mission).
May the hand of the person who can give away by his hand one praught of gnostic wine (i.e. one
who can reveal one gnostic experience to his comrade), be in the bosom of the beloved (master)
who is the focus of his gnostic mission.
Who is that hale and hearty royal hussar (the perfect master who is the object of every genuine
gnostic)? May both the worlds be under the control of the cord of his cloak (qaba) and the
command of the flag hoisted on his shoulders.
If his enthralling, narcissus-like caring eye, that provides spiritual entertainment and which keeps
men under its spell, were to drinke the blood of the lover from the cup (i.e. if it absorbs the hearts
of the lovers); it would indeed be wonderful drinking for the spirit of the lovers.
My eye holds the mirror to his beauteous contours and beauty spots (khat-o-khaal, i.e. it reflects,
represents and fancifully depicts the master’s spiritual exaltation and ideals); may God enable
my lips to be amongst those who have the privilege of kissing his sweet lips.
Although on account of his exaltation and majesty (profoundness and depth) he (my master) did
not so much as talk to me who is after all a dervish, may my spirit be sacrificed to his sugary
pistachio (sweet mouth) which is so attractive even in its silence.
The king of the Turks (i.e. the master of the gnostic warriors) lends an ear to the words of my
rivals; may he, like Afrasiab, be taken to remorse for his cold-blooded murder of Siavash [from
whose blood sprang up the plant called “the blood of Siavash’’ (Khoon-i-Siavash) which Mohl
translates by the words “‘dragon’s blood”. See The Shah-Namah of Firdausi, translated by
Alexander Rogers, pp- 203- 210).
My (beloved) master has ordained: "By the pen of that Artist (God) no error has come to pass”
i.e. whatever my disciples have done or not done is under Divine dispensation and in accordance
with my own will); hosanna to his blessed perceiving eye thatcovers up all our lapses and errors.
O beloved master! On account of being in your thralldom, Hafiz has become renowned all over
the world; may the ring (chain) of his bondage to your locks ever remain in his ears forever i.e.
may he (Hafiz) hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi forever by your grace and favour.
LYRIC 244 (10 VERSES)
1-5. Early in the morning, zephyr (master’s Divine impulse) was bringing to me the fragrance of
my beloved (master’s) locks of hair; so to say, it was engrossing my sour and surly (refractory)
heart in-a new (gnostic) essay.
The zephyr that was fetching every navel of musk from Tatar, in its modesty induced by the
fragrance of the locks of my beloved (master), was showering that fragrance on the morning
breeze.

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From the top of his (spiritual) castle I was witnessing the waxing of (his) moon (spirit) in its full
effulgence, so that struck by the shame caused by it, the refulgent sun was hiding his face behind
the wall (i.e. by beholding my master’s refulgence, even the .vainglorious fault-finders were
shame-soaked and hiding themselves behind the wall of pretexts).
May the rows of his eye-brows be forgiven by God, for although they wilted me (as a flower
might wilt) and made me go limp, out of his compassion, they were also bringing a message
towards the head of the sick-bed of his ailing lover.
Whether my beloved master commanded me to recite the Great Name on rosary or to take to the
girdle of Zunnar (sacred thread, held to be apostasy) it was in every case, wholly, from end to
end, the gift of my sweetheart an act of his favour and grace.
6-10. I have extirpated the branch of that white tall, dope tree (sanobar, i.e. traditional faith and
specious piety) from the garden of my chest (i.e. from my gnostic technique); this, because,
every (specious) rose that blossomed out of its affliction, fructified as a severe ordeal.
Scared of the pillage and plunder committed by his (coyish) eyes, I washed my hands off my
blood-soaked heart (left it to my master’s care), but then, he (my beloved master) would bring it
back to me in such a style that on the way, blood would trickle out of it.
What a happy time and what a propitious moment it was when his knotted locks of hair (i.e. his
recondite, metaphysical, gnostic mysteries) would ravish the hearts in such a glorious style that
even his adversaries would pledge their fealty and homage to him.
At the bidding of the minstrel (disciple-in-chief of the perfect master) and the cupbearer (perfect
master), every now and then I went out to such places (i.e. under the supervision of my master
and his disciple-in-chief my spirit ascended to such lofty and difficult levels of consciousness or
spiritual regions) that from those tortuous paths, even a (gifted and alert) messenger fetches the
news with the greatest difficulty.
Last night, I was wondering at the cup (receptivity) of Hafiz and his measured chalice, but I did
not prevent him (from quaffing the gnostic wine) for he was conducting himself in the true style
of a (genuine) Sufi (gnostic).
LYRIC 245 (9 VERSES)
1-9. The zephyr (Divine impulse) came to congratulate the dealer of (gnostic) wine, asking him
to-exult and rejoice, for the hour of (spiritual) ecstasy; rapture, preening and drinking had struck.
The breeze (environment of. the congregation) became as spellbinding as the breath of Messiah,
and the wind (master’s impulse), became the resolver of the navel (of divine mysteries), the
trees: (the earnest, expectant devotees) became green and verdant and the (spiritual) fowls took
to chirping (i.e. they took to recitation of the Great Name).
The spring breeze had inflamed the oven of red anemone in such a wise that-its bud sunk in
perspiration and the flower reached the boiling point (i.e. the master’s impulse illumined the
heart of the advanced gnostics so that he became exceedingly humble while his heart became
ecstatic).

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O earnest seeker! Prick up your ears to what I say and endeavour for (spiritual) rapture, for this
word of advice came to my ears from the Invisible voice early in the morning (i.e. this
inspiration I received during the course of my pre-dawn meditation).
Forsake dissension (duvidha, factionalism, deceit, dichotomy between this or that, mine and
thine which is Devil’s slander, duality) so that (instead of having divided attention and haunted
by doubt and tergiversation) you may collect your wits and become keenly concentrated (on the
nukta-i-sveda), for it is Divinely ordained that the moment Ahriman (Druj, deceit, the Evil,
Darkness, the enemy of mankind) quits, Ahura Mazda (or Ormuzd, the principle of or angel of
light of good) comes in.
I am not aware of what the morning bird (the Divine impulse operating at the morning
meditation) confided to hyacinth who is ten-tongued (i.e. the expansive, extrovert gnostic seeker)
and uninhibited in speech, that notwithstanding his ten tongues he has held his tongue. O seeker!
The majlis (assembly) of love is no place for the company of those ignorant of and alien to the
universe of love; cover up the (gnostic) cup (i.e. stop talking about recondite gnostic subtleties)
for the devil (under the guise of khirqa) has come.
Now, I speak a word of cheer to you! Come on and quaff the (gnostic) wine (i.e. take to
meditation or talk about your gnostic experiences) for the (wily) abstinent has left us and the
gnostic tosspot has come.
Hafiz repairs from the monastery to (gnostic) tavern; perhaps he has recovered his wits from the
delusion induced by (guileful) abstinence and the bewilderment caused by craftiness and
duplicity.
LYRIC 246 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O beloved master! Your beauteous form has been designed out of the most attractive
patterns; so to say, the print of your lips is made out of the sweet soul itself.
In order to accord a hearty welcome to the vast assemblage of your images, the pupils of my eye,
by their colourful (red) tears, have decorated and embellished the land of eyes (i.e. for my eyes,
the day of your advent would be a red-letter day, a lucky day. In almanacs, the saint’s days are
printed in red ink; also, my eyes turned red because of incessant tears, and this is like painting
the town red, in order to have a gay time in your company).
Attar-dealership and musk showering is, of course, the calling of your locks, O lovely master! It
is only expediency that they have affixed this blame on the navel of China (i.e. China has-only a
name for musk and attar, that is about all; the real culprit of exercising this fascinating spell is
your ‘lock of hair).
O Lord! Is that a face with pearls in the ears on either side, or is it the radiant moon with the
garland of the plough (Great Bear or the group of the seven brightest stars in the constellation;
Ursa Major or Sapth Rishis) knotted on all four sides of it.
When the painters of Khotan, colour the portraits of flowers like you, for inspiration they bank
upon the lovely row of hairs on your cheeks and the ambergris-like dust of your feet to assemble
the canopy of eglantine.

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O lovely master! The tales that they have fabricated about Firhaad and Sheerin are, in sooth, a
narrative of my ardent passion of love for you (ishq of Firhaad of which my love is the
archetype) and of your beauty (husn of Sheerin of which your beauty is the archetype).
O Hafiz! You are truly the revealer of undiluted reality of the mystery of love (ishq); anyone
other than you, has only indulged in grotesque rhyming of verse based on guesstimates of images
(keeping the reader guessing as to what he is driving at).
LYRIC 247 (9 VERSES)
1-9. If the huma of fortune were to pass closely by me once again, my beloved master would
come back and would promise union with me.
If these eyes of mine have no longer the shine of pearls and jewels, let them drink blood (i.e. let
them shed tears of blood and make it their daily diet) and devise a way to sacrifice themselves.
The entire city is empty of the lovers (of saints, i.e. they have shot their bolts) ; it is quite on the
cards that from some direction, area man (saint) from the Invisible may Come as a bolt from the
blue and take to (gnostic) work.
Nobody has the gumption to breathe a word about our tale to him (our beloved master); possibly,
the morning zephyr (the Divine impulse operating during the morning meditation) night put it on
to his ears.
I have made the falcon of my gaze take wing on the plumes of a red-legged partridge (lover of
my master), in the hope that perhaps good luck may show itself up to it (i.e. to my gaze) and it
may, for once, prey upon his beauty.
Where is such a generous (master) in whose enthralling majlis (congregation) some afflicted may
sip a draught (of gnostic wine) and succeed in repelling delirium tremens (i.e. succeed in
digesting that gnostic mystery and not show symptoms of distraction, anxiety and excitement,
preserving his self-respect and sobriety).
O master! I am expecting the Wheel of Time (charkh) do one out of these three works either
faithfulness on your part, or the news of my union with you, or the demise of my rival.
Last night, I had said; “The ruby-like lips of his would treat my heart (of its pain)’’; the Invisible
voice readily agreed and affirmed: “O yes! He would treat you.” Indeed! Would he?
O Hafiz! If you do not avert your face from his door (and stay put there), one of these days he
would definitely pass close to you from some corner or the other.
LYRIC 248 (14 VERSES)
1-7. O master! When the reflection of your countenance fell upon the mirror of the cup, the
gnostic seeker by seeing the master’s reflection on his cup (heart) was tempted to imagine that he
has had a vision.
One glimpse of the luminescence of your beauteous visage which reflected itself in the mirror of
his heart, impressed this phantasmagoria in the mirror of his whim-wham (fancies, i.e. his
fanciful heart).

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On the day of Creation, the Lord showed a glimpse of His luminous face from behind the veil;
the reflection of His shadow fell upon the countenance of (dianoetic) intellects (i.e. what the
discursive reason of man has is merely the reflection of God’s shadow, and yet he has become so
supercilious and so haughty, putting on airs of being an intellectual or philosopher).
All this shadow of Divine wine and its apposite print or mark that appeared on man’s intellect, is
merely a reflection of the cupbearer’s visage (God’s visage) which has fallen on the cup (of
man’s heart).
The sheer modesty of love (of God) has severed the tongue of His elect [for they become aware
of Him and those who become aware of Him become dumb ; cf. Sar Bachan, Poetry, Volume II,
op. cit., Discourse 41, Hymn 23: “gunge ne gur khaaya, woh kaise kahe banaye:
The one who tasted His molass became dumb; how can he manage to reveal its savour to anyone
(who has not tasted it)?]; then how can the mouth (speech) of the vulgar get a scent of the
mystery of the pangs of love for the Lord?
On my heart, consumed in the fire of His love, every moment there is a new flame of grace
(which burns my heart more and yet more); look at this beggar (lover) to see what recompense
he has received for his ardent love for Him.
O seeker! The righteous (straight) perceiver, by the force of the perception of the (straight)
righteous master, has attained to his (spiritual) aim; the squint-eye (torn by duality, and on
tenterhooks of dichotomy), by his double-seeing eye, is tempted into error (i.e. the one who has
obliterated his duality by crossing the nukta-i-sveda, has become straight and unicoloured; the
one who stays put in his two eyes, is tempted into error, is ever torn in the conflict of “shall I do
this”, or “shall I do that’’—a vexatious state of tergiversation).
8-14. Under the sword of the pangs of love for the Lord, the lover must go dancing (like a
whirling dervish, in ecstasy); for he who is slain by him ever comes: good (i.e. attains to his
object).
O lovely master! Having wriggled out of the well of your chin, (my) heart hangs on to your locks
of hair; it came out of the well and fell into the trap (i.e. avoiding Scylla, it fell into Charybdis;
rid of the devil, it fell into the deep sea ; out of the frying pan, it got into the fire).
O khwaja (sheikh)! No more you’ll see me in the (formal) prayer-house (mosque or temple), for
now my business is with the radiant visage of my cupbearer and his (gnostic) cup. O worldling!
From the mosque, I did not fall in (join) the (gnostic) taverns at my own; from the day of
Creation, it was my destiny and the end (of my existence).
He that falls into the involution of rotation of time, what can he do if, like the extended arm of
the compass, he does not trail behind Time? (That is, one who remains involved in the affairs of
this fleshly, vicissitudinous realm would always swing to and fro with the pull and push of the
Wheel of Time.)
In the gang of lovers, I hold the flag of love aloft, for everyone to see; now that my tray has
fallen down from the earth (sending its reverberations all around), what shall I gain if I beat my
drum in secrecy (i.e. for a lover, it is disgraceful to carry on his love affair behind the curtain; it

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is insulting to the beloved and it is humiliating for the lover. This, because love is the noblest of
all noble pursuits and intrinsically it is bold and courageous and shuns all secrecy, even if it has
revulsion for all publicity).
All Sufis are lovers and sports of amorous eyes, but of them all, Hafiz, with his heart burnt out in
the fire of love for his beloved (master), has gained notoriety.
LYRIC 249 (9 VERSES)
1-9. O master! My love with you is not a cursory (sarsari) affair, hasty and superficial, the spell
of which can be exorcised; my love for you is not artificial (man-made and deliberate, confined
only to body or the accidental, i.e. aarzee; after weighing its pluses and minuses) which can be
transferred to another place (person). My passion for you is part of my corporeal and spiritual
existence, and my love for you has its abode in my heart (and soul); it has entered into my being
with breastfeed and it will go out of me along with my spirit (i.e. from the. cradle to the grave I
live by my love for you). The pain of love is such a pain that in the course of its treatment, the
more effort you invest (to cure it) the worse it will become (as a poet has put it: “mareez-i-ishq
par rehmat khuda ki, marz badhta gaya jeon jeon dawa ki—On the lovesick God ever shows his
compassion; the disease goes on aggravating, as you apply the cure to it”). In this city
(congregation) I am the first and the foremost whose imploration (for mercy) every night reaches
the domes of heavens. If it so happens that I shed my tears into the perennial river (zinda-rawad),
the entire agricultural land of Iraq would be irrigated by one single watering. Yesterday, I beheld
the beauteous countenance of my beloved, (master) between his locks, and it looked as if the
moon was encompassed by a dark cloud. I said: “Let me begin (my love-making) with kissing
(your face)”; he replied : “Wait until the moon (my face) comes out of the House of Scorpio”
(the eighth house in the zodiac; i.e. wait until the hostile forces are repelled). O my heart! If even
in the remembrance of his ruby-like lips, you quaff the (gnostic) wine (i.e. if you take to Sultan-
al-Azkar), don’t do it lest his adversaries get the scent of it (i.e. do it only when you make sure
that the master’s adversaries do not get the scent of your practice of Sultan-al-Azkar which must
be resorted to in utmost secrecy). O lovely master! If his dust is about to be trampled under your
feet, in order to kiss them, Hafiz would lift his head from his grave.
LYRIC 250 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O master! My passion for you has turned out to be a sapling (the beginning) of all-absorbing
love (hairat, for which see Phelps’ Notes, op. cit., p. 149); and union with you has turned out to
be the culmination of hairat (all-absorbing love). A great many (lovers) are submerged in the
state of union the culminating point of love, and yet they wonder about the beginning of their
present state of hairat. But wherever the thought of hairat comes on, neither union remains, nor
the seeker of the union (or uniter, waasil). In every direction in which I turned my ears, the
question about hairat sounded in my ears (i.e. whenever I took to meditation, I landed in a state
of all-absorbing love). O seeker! Show me the heart that took to the (gnostic) way (tariqat) and
on whose visage the mark of hairat did not develop (i.e. who did not make -his mark and
attained to the state of hairart), Whenever the luminescence and radiance (mysterium
tremendum) of hairat (perfection of kamal, numen, culmination) spread, there the attainer of that
culmination (perfection), by virtue of that spiritual distinction, became reverent. The entire being
of Hafiz, from head to feet, in the field of ardent passion (for the perfect master), has become a
sapling of hairat.

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LYRIC 251 (6 VERSES)
1-6. The lovers must put up with (literally, to draw on, or get close to) a good deal of the
affliction of heart ; they must take on (contend with and endure) the slur and aspersions cast on
the beloved (master, by his superficial, spiteful critics and adversaries), and the wrath of the
strangers (those alien to the gnostic universe). They must put up with their lot of cold sighs and
tearful moans that rise from the ardour of longing for the countenance of the beloved (master)
throughout the dark nights (of dreary desolation and separation from the beloved master). (And
he must persevere steadfastly, expectantly, for) if an implorer (faryadee) were to seek justice
from the king (the perfect master of the age), he has to endure in patience, waiting for the day
after tomorrow (i.e. for a long time). One who opts to become a lover (aashiq), even if he is a
molly-coddle, treated with indulgent care and pampered by the whole world, of what avail would
be his delicacy (frailness and sensitiveness) in the tortuous path of love, and so he must bear the
(irksome) burden that ardent passion of love imposes on the lover. O dear comrade! In order to
behold the rose (to have a glimpse of the inner form of the beloved master), one has to take on
humiliation of a farmer and the oppression of the thorns and _ thistles (i.e. one has to have the
humility of dust and forbearance to endure the censure, calumny, character- assassination,
slanders of the enemies of gnosis—the charlatans, the imposters and the lovers of this fleshly
world). As it is, O Hafiz, a gnostic ought to realize how much affliction he has to endure during
the phase of separation from the beloved (master) and in the hope of the promise and pledge
made by the beloved (master that sooner rather than later, he would manifest himself again to
relieve him of his writhing agony).
LYRIC 252 (10 VERSES)
1-10. O lovely master! The thralls of your enthralling eyes are, in sooth, the crowned kings (of
the dominion of gnosis); those inebriated by your ruby-like (gnostic) wine (of Lahoot) are in full
possession of their senses.
It is only zephyr in your case and the flood of my tears which by the furtive, amorous looks have
served as informers (giving away the secret of our love); otherwise, left to themselves, the ardent
love and the bewitching beloved are (extremely sensitive) keepers of secrets.
O lovely (master)! When you pass by us, look around to your left, under your curly locks of hair
(literally, bent double), and see how much restless your lovers are.
In the bed of violets (the congregation of your violet-like devotees) pass like the zephyr (i.e.
slowly, watchfully alert) and notice how much are your lovers afflicted by the high-handedness
(killing beauty) of your locks of hair (i.e. your Divine mysteries which you are hiding from them,
in your wisdom).
O rival (contender, disputant, adversary)! ‘Don’t drag your feet and move nimbly; don’t put on
airs (don’t be conceited and supercilious), for those who dwell on the door of the beloved
(master) are humble as the dust (but not a base or cowardly).
O the one claiming to be acquainted with God! Be gone! for paradise is our destined portion
(naseeb), (you claim to be devoid of sins and lapses, and are blessed right away and, therefore,
you cannot desire and deserve any blessings); it is only the sinners «who are entitled to God’s
compassion and beatitude.

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O master! On the rose of your cheeks I am not the only one who sings love lyrics; in every
direction, there are thousands of bulbuls who warble melodies of love. O khidr with propitious
feet! Become the holder of my hand, for while I am going on foot (i.e. my ascension to higher
regions is painfully slow), my fellow-travellers are riders (i.e. while my text or script is simple,
their text has a protecting rider).
O seeker! Get into the (gnostic) tavern and redden your face (i.e. wear the colour of Lahoot) so
that you may get your colours (revealed) and come off with flying colours (become completely
triumphant by attaining to Hoot); don’t go towards the ritualistic prayer-hall, for there are
blackguards (scoundrels, swindlers and miscreants) there.
May Hafiz never be released from the snare of that lock of hair with sharp windings and curves,
for those captives of your noose (your love) are ipso facto, redeemed and absolved (from all
guilt).
LAVRIC 253 (8 VERSES)
1-8. O beloved master! This broken(-hearted) did not have the good luck of being slained by the
sword (of your beauty) ; otherwise, from the side of your merciless (really, merciful) heart there
was no fault (i.e. it left no stone unturned). (In other words, O master! You did everything,
sparing no effort, in redeeming me; it is only my bad stars that come in the way).
O Lord! What extraordinary property the mirror of your beauty (i.e. the heart of my beloved
master in which is fully reflected God’s beauty) has that my sigh could not gather the power to
affect it (for normally a mirror is, affected if one breathes on to it).
In my state of all absorbing love (hairat) I turned my face towards the door of the (gnostic)
tavern (master’s congregation), for in the mosque there was no sage who had any acquaintance
with you.
In as much as I, the crazy fool, gave up your locks of hair, there was nothing more apt for me
than the ring of chain (fetter which alone could keep me fastened to your feet).
In the garden of beauty (i.e. the congregation of the beauteous perfect master), none more lovely
than your tall stature has grown; in this realm of forms, no form comelier than-your form could
be found.
It is on the cards that I may, like-the zephyr, attain to your locks (your Divine mystery) for this
end, last night, I had had no engagement other than moan and groan all through the night. O fire
of separation (from my beloved master)!
On account of you I had to put up with so much of burning that I saw no way out of your
(oppressive) hand save to efface myself in the wise of a burning candle (i.e. the master’s wisdom
in inflicting a phase of separation on his dear disciple is to make him humble and more loving so
that he could obliterate his ego and his carnal desire. Love for the master is that passion, in the
fire of which all worldly longings and fleshly yearnings melt away).
The torture of affliction inflicted on Hafiz by his separation from you was in itself such a
spontaneous verse that it required no elaboration before anyone (i.e. everyone could make out
what it means).

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LYRIC 254 (6 VERSES)
1-6. The white drop of tears that I shed from my moist eyes, in the (dark) night of separation
from you, sparkles clearly like a white star (i.e. it evinces my righteous and transparently sincere
love for you, O master !). Although, by dint of (heat of).separation from - that heart-ravisher, my
bones have turned white (i.e. bone ash, burned in air), the huma of my union with you (the huma
bird which is always on the wing, and which never alights, and the head which it overshadows
wears a crown) showed no inclination towards me. A good many arrows from you (your beauty)
darted across my bosom, and like a pigeon-livered (timid and humble like a pigeon) I fluttered
my wings, but I showed the white feather (as a sign of my utter humility, as an all-white flag
Signals total and unconditional surrender). O cupbearer (perfect master)! When you put the cup
of gnostic wince on your lips of the red colour of wine, by the reflection of your (ruddy) lips, the
white cup looks deep red (i.e. when you utter and articulate your divine mysteries, the white cold
heart of the listeners becomes zestful, full of spiritual zap and pep, begins to have a glimpse of
Lahoot). O lovely master! Your eyebrow which is like the new moon, is not, in sooth, the new
moon, but it is a white (righteous) sword which the heavenly Turkoman (the Wheel of Time), in
his spite and oppression, has belted in order to shed the blood of your lovers. O Hafiz! At the
time of discoursing, these lips and teeth of his are like a casket of ruby, as if, replete with pearls
and jewels (i.c. when he discourses, every word that falls from his lips is a precious pearl and
jewel).
LYRIC 255 (8 VERSES)
1-8. If the pen of your dark hair were to remember (call or write to) me one of these days, he will
get the recompense (reward) for having emancipated two hundred slaves.
He is the messenger’ of His Majesty the Saviour (Salma), may he live forever! It matters little to
him if by one salaam he cheers and vivifies my (depressed) heart.
O Lord! Instill into the heart of that Khusroe (King) of sweet disposition, sweet as Shirin, the
urge that taking pity, he may pass by the side of her Firhaad (her lover).
For the time being (i.e. presently), your coyness born of my ardent passion for you, has
exterminated me, root and branch; it is a different matter (which is to be seen) with what wise
deliberation he lays the foundation of my being, once again (i.e. he has, for the time being
effaced my self—fana; I wonder how he will make me subsist in himself, i.e. will ensure my
baqa).
O master! Your hallowed spirit (gauhar-i-paak) is unconcerned and independent of our eulogy
and paean; and why not? What can the care taken by a masseur do to improve upon God-given
beauty? (The singers of paeon eulogising the master with God-given beauty, are at best like
masseurs who can improve upon the beauty of ordinary mortals; they will be entirely helpless in
doing anything to embellish and adorn the God-given beauty of saints).
O master! You may put to test what I tell you: if, in your grace, you only rehabilitate (vivify or
resuscitate) a ruined soul like me, they (the Divine forces) would give you a great many
(spiritual) treasures in fulfilment of your ardent desires (i.e. if you redeem me, O master, by
Divine grace, you would have emancipated millions of creatures like me and that is precisely
your heart’s desire, your mission which God has assigned to you).

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For a king (a perfect master like you) the life of one moment, in which he dispenses justice (to
his lovers) is far better than the homage and obeisance and prayer proferred by an abstinent for a
hundred years (i.e. if a person were to do full justice in rendering truce homage «and service to
the perfect master, even for one moment, it is far better than penances and ascetic practices
rendered for a hundred years ; cf. Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., paras 28, 86, 87, 90, 92,
119, 122, 141, 142, 151 and 261).
I have not been able to find the way to the attainment of my mission in Shiraz (the fleshly world
hostile to gnosis); that day would be happy when Hafiz takes to the way to Baghdad (the true
congregation of sincere devouts with a perfect living master).
LYRIC 256 (9 VERSES)
1-9. One who fastens his gaze on the (spiritual) beauty of his beloved (master), it is a fully
established truth that he has the essence of discernment and perception.
I have laid my head (ego) in homage to the letter (and spirit) of his commandment
unquestioningly as the pen complies with the wishes of the writer; may be that he (my master)
lifts it (i.e. slays it) by his sword (of his spiritual beauty).
Your message of union with yourself was received only by him who, in the wise of the burning
candle, takes to anew head at. every moment, under your sword (i.e. who goes on Shedding the
innumerable layers, each subtler and more formidable than the last, of his ego, one after the
other, by becoming humbler and humbler at your feet.
The roots of ego spread up to the region of Hootal Hoot and it is only after attaining to that level
of spiritual consciousness that the gnostic seeker qualifies for admittance into the Hoot, the
region of Haq). Only he got the prerogative of kissing your feet, who laid his head on your door
like the door sill.
O comrade! I am weary of dry abstinence (that leaves me high and dry, spiritually stranded,
helpless, destitute); fetch the pure (gnostic) wine, red as pomegranate (rack), for the scent of the
(gnostic) wine keeps my mind and soul (spiritually) fervent, vivified and refreshed.
One day, your rival (adversary) shot an arrow straight on my chest (i.e. he made me a butt of his
ridicule for my being in love with you and for shunning him); I took it, even without a shield, for
one who is used to being hit by the arrows of the pain caused by my love for you, does not
require any shield (and becomes sufficiently strong to hit your opponent back and make him take
to his heels).
One who didn’t take even one step away from the path of self-restraint (taqwa) is now intent on
going: to the gnostic (tavern) and is thinking of embarking on a journey (towards the gnostic
tavern).
O seeker! Even if you did not make any (spiritual) gain out of the gnostic (wine), is it not enough
for you that at least for a while, it kept you off the devil’s slander a arising from your (dianoetic)
intellect? (That is, if you attend the gnostic congregation even for a while, it should be enough of
a gain for you, for a stone lying in limpid water, although remains - impervious to its refreshing
effect, is vet better than the stone that lies outside, exposed to the scorching heat of the sun; cf.
Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 35.)

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O Comrade! The broken heart of Hafiz would carry into the dust (of grave) the anemone-like
scar left by his ardent desire (love) for his master, on his liver.
LYRIC 257 (7 VERSES)
1-7. If the temper (heart) is distressed, how can it spring forth a delightful verse; in this context, I
have made one point and that explains everything.
If from your ruby(-like lips) I obtain a meaningful ring (i.e. I comprehend gnostic gem from the
profound words that fall from your lips), a hundred dominions (mysteries) of Solomon would
become exposed to that gem (allusion to Rabbinical fable which says that Solomon wore a ring
with a gem that told him all he desired to know).
O my heart! Don’t be grieved ‘by the sneers and jeers of the enviers, for if you probe it (examine
and search into it closely), you. will discover that their taunt is for your good.
Everyone who is not able to comprehend this thought-provoking pen (with which I write these
verses), strikes out the image which he creates (out of his misunderstanding and groping in the
dark), even if that image-maker is from China (famous for its image makers).
In the circle of (Divine) dispensation (Kismat), everyone has been allotted a form according to
his worth, so that it is only one out of so many who has been allotted the cup of (gnostic) wine
and the blood-soaked heart (i.e. the pre- eternal Dispenser has apportioned a thing to every
person as He perceived him fit for. He allotted weeping to the candle, while he dispensed
burning to the moth; He assigned grief to us for He found us deservers of it).
In the matter of rose-water and the rose, the pre-eternal dispensation was that one (the rose) be
the beloved of the bazaar (be sold there and be used for decorating and embellishing the harlots)
while that (the rose-water) be kept closely guarded behind a veil (in the privacy of the delicate
gnostics).
It cannot be that from the temper of Hafiz, (gnostic) ecstasy could be expelled, for this business
of (spiritual) inebriation would continue ‘till the last day (i.e. the end).
LYRIC 258 (10 VERSES)
1-5.. Now that the rose (the perfect master) has come into the garden (the congregation of the
gnostics) straight from non-existence (from the Divine abode, i.e. the perfect master is a born
saint or swateh sant) the violet (the advanced gnostic seeker) has laid his head at his feet in
prostration.
In accompaniment of the tenor drum and violin (Saut-i-Sarmadi in Lahoot and Hahoot), quaff
the (gnostic) wine from the cup (heart and soul, i.e. hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi at the level of
consciousness of Lahoot and Hahoot during your morning spell of Sultan-al-Azkar), and on the
note of flute and sarangi (the inarticulate sounds of Hahoot and Hootal Hoot) plant a kiss on the
chin-pit of the beloved master (i.e. offer obeisance and oblation to your, perfect master by whose
grace you attain to the level of consciousness of Hahoot and Hootal Hoot).
With the help of the garden (gnostic congregation presided over by the perfect born saint or
swateh sant), renew the basic concept of Zoroastrianism the concept of a continuous struggle
between Ormazd or Ahura Mazda, the god of Creation, light and goodness (Haq or Satt Purush),

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and his arch enemy, Ahriman (Kaal, Shaitan), the spirit of evil and darkness, for now the red
anemone (here used as a symbol of spiritual anarchy and tumult), the charlatans and the
swindlers who never hesitate to dye their hands in blood in order to accomplish their nefarious
objects under the cover of religion) has ignited the fire of Namrud (to burn out Ahriman ; the
Koran, XVI, 120-123. In other words, be with Ahura Mazda, the master of the age, rather than
Namrud, the charlatan, the agent of Satan).
O seeker! From the hand of the beloved master who has cheeks fair as silver and whose breath is
fine and spellbinding as that of Jesus, quaff the (gnostic) wine, and leave the tales of Aad and
Thamud alone (for Aad and Thamud, refer to Koran, VII, 65-73). During the era of hyacinth and
rose (perfect master and his disciples) this (phenomenal) world became like the exalted
empyrean (Lahoot or Arsh-i-Bareen) but then, of what avail is that to man, for time does not stay
stationary and there is no everlastingness to any era.
6-10. By our good luck and propitious stars, and urged by the blooming basil flowers (advanced
gnostics), the rose-garden (congregation of the perfect master) has become heavenly.
When the rose (the perfect master), in the wise of Solomon, mounts the wind (i.e. when the
master himself becomes engaged in Sultan-al-Azkar), early in the morning, the fowls (all the
gnostic disciples of the master) take to singing the melodies of David (i.e. all the disciples of the
master become absorbed in listening to the Saut-i-Sarmadi; for Solomon-and David in this
context, refer to the Koran, XXI, 78-81).
During the season of the rose (the time when the perfect master is manifest), don’t sit without the
(gnostic) wine (i.e. without hearing his gnostic discourses that stimulate as wine), without the
beloved (master, i.e. pass as much time in his company as possible), and without listening to the
inarticulate sound (anhat shabd) of violin (i.e. without practicing the Sultan-al-Azkar) for like
the rest of life, even a week’s time spent in the company of perfect master is a matter of luck
(which is severely limited).
To commemorate the memory of Asif of the Age (the vizier of Solomon and the pillar of the
faith, the admired one) quaff cupful of the (gnostic) wine (i.e. become engrossed in Sultan-al-
Azkar).
It is on the cards that by the blessings of his (spiritual) instructions, to the majlis (circle) of Hafiz
everything that it seeks may become available.
LYRIC 259 (10 VERSES)
1-5, Confounded by the vicissitudes induced by the Wheel of Time, my (spiritual) work
never attains to success; affliction has made my heart blood-soaked and yet no remedy (i.e. my
master’s attention) reaches me. I am down in the dumps like the dust of the path, back to front
(in disorder) ; until the water of my face goes away (i.e. until I get into hot waters, in serious
difficulty, trouble and anxieties), even the bread does not reach me (i.e. the worldlings create all
sorts of problems for the gnostics so that they are always in deep waters). To the high-
handedness with which the world treats the men of virtue (the gnostic aristocracy), it is enough
of a hardship and anguish that their cruel and oppressive hand does not reach their life (i.e. the
oppressors gnash their teeth in anguish when they fail to kill the gnostics, even though they leave
no stone unturned in their attempt to exterminate them; conversely, it is no small mercy if the

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gnostics, despite the ferocious attacks launched on them by the charlatans and their patrons,
manage to escape death). I swear by the heart of the righteous that I am fed up with life but then
helpless as I am, what can I do if the Divine decree of death does not arrive. So long as a
hundred thousand thorns do not grow out of the earth, not a single rose from the bough of the
rose tree reaches the rose-garden (i.e. as against one righteous gnostic, who is like a rose, there
are a hundred thousand swindlers and charlatans who act as thorns).
6-10. Despairing of the coming of Joseph, -both eyes of Jacob turned white (lustreless);
not a whisper reached from Egypt to Canaan (as to what was happening to Joseph). So long as a
hundred thousand wounds are not inflicted on my teeth, I cannot filch even a piece of bone (ire.
everything which I do or don’t do, speak or don’t speak, becomes a bone of contention, so that I
develop a bone in my throat, can neither talk nor answer a question. Making no bones about it,
the fact is that [always find myself having a bone to pick with someone). The ignoramuses,
deluded by their overweening pride and vainglory claim to have attained to the seventh heaven (a
state of supreme happiness); (but they don’t realize. that) except for the sobs and sighs (inflicted
by these hoity-toity), on the spiritually elect, nothing whatever reaches the seventh heaven (it is
said that when a saint or sage is vexed and harassed by the snotty and the toffee-nosed, all the
heavens are stirred and disturbed so that the hubristic comes a purler). O hubristic Sufi! Wash
down (from top to bottom) the rust of yout heart (i.e. your fleshly yearnings, longings, lust for
power, money, women and boys) with the water of (gnostic) wine ; by merely washing down and
jerking your khirqa (woollen cloak), absolution (forgiveness of sins) will not reach you. O Hafiz!
Persevere steadfastly for on the path of love-lock (aashiqee), he who has not given away his life,
never reaches his sweetheart (the beloved master).
LYRIC 260 (8 VERSES)
1-8.. O comrade ! Who are those two (the perfect master and his disciple-in-chief who are ever
together, for the one cannot function without the other) who are turning round in ecstasy and
inebriation; they are turning round, sitting on the back of the sun (the almighty Lord, whose
representatives on earth they are)! They are both royal scions (Divinely created for the Divine
mission of redeeming the devout), seated in their spiritual, majestic tent and fine (spiritual)
frenzy, circling around like the cupbearer and the wine cup (making every devout quaff the
gnostic wine). Both of them are marine, ever floating in the sea of Divinity, but like the sun (that
shines everywhere, filthy or fair) they are turning around the filthy, soiled place (which abounds
with the foul and the filthy). Both of them are (gnostic) Sufis and are blue-blooded (royal
descent, from the Satt Purush or Haq) and they always wear a blue jacket (symbol of Divine
eternity and human immortality, and since they are true blue, they will never stain). They (are the
blue birds of happiness and) are moving about the prayer-chamber, inebriated and lost (in
ecstasy). Both of them are the robbers of brigands that infest the path (of gnosis); they outsmart
the smart and outwit the sharp-witted (i.e. they ever get the better of charlatans, the fraudulent,
and the duplicitous, exhibitionist preachers); they prowl around the chest of cash (the treasure of
their sins and transgressions, with the label of gold and silver on it) of the old devil and the
young sharper. They are the catchers of ferocious. lions (the diabolical, fiendish: charlatans)
whom they bring to bay (forcing them in to a position from which retreat is impossible) ; like the
fox they fascinate and bewilder the wily and the guileful Sufis (for they operate on the Divine
commandment, “Every fox must pay his skin to the furrier”, i.e. the crafty shall be taken in their
wiliness, so that they give a cunning fox a flap with a fox-tail and make a fool of him); they even
turn around both at the dawn and the dusk (both when the sun rises and the moon comes out, i.e.
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when the gnostics are engrossed in Sultan-al-Azkar, they serve as their watch and ward). They
are black foot (match-makers between the gnostic and God) who are floating around all sides of
the sea (of Divinity) like mallah (sailor), like the arch of silver. (The murshid of love who calleth
the disciple to the path of God is called the mallah, sailor; see Sir Denzil Ibbatson and Sir
Edward Maclagon, ed. H.A. Rose, Religious Life of Indian People, Amar Prakashan, 1991, p.
532. “Silver arch”? refers to silver weapons with which Philip of Macedon was asked by the
Delphic Oracle to conquer the world.) Both these sweethearts (the perfect master and his
disciple-in-chief) trail every affliction (that might befall their disciples and earnest gnostics) and
they raise Cain (should the devilish forces advance towards them); they are turning around
nimbly (agile, quick and neat in movement) with Hafiz as their aim (for they are dead-set to get
him redeemed and absolved of all sins and lapses).
LYRIC 261 (8 VERSES)
1-8. If the gnostic wine dealer (the perfect gnostic master) were to agree to attend to all the
(spiritual) requirements of the inebriated ones, the Creator would absolve us from our sins and
would annul our retribution.
In a workshop (i.e. the workshop of gnosis) where there is no way permitted to (dianoetic)
knowledge and intellect, why should frail fancy (whim-wham) proffer its frivolous opinion? (i.e.
why should a wiseacre stride a path on which angels fear to tread.)
O minstrel (gnostic striver)! Sing in accompaniment of sarangi (i.e. die to your flesh by listening
to the Saut-i- Sarmadi heard in Hahoot) for without dying (to one’s flesh), nobody really dies
(i.e. none gets rid of death and attain to baqa without self- effacement or fana). And the one who
does not sing this melody commits (a fatal) error.
O wise man! Whether you can front grief or (unexpectedly) encounter pleasure, don’t relate
(attribute) it to anyone alien to you, for all that comes to pass, is by His decree (determined by
your own deeds).
We (ghostics) who are afflicted by the pain of our ardent passion of love and who suffer from
delirium tremens (after drinking the gnostic wine) can be cured only by our union with our
beloved (master) or by quaffing the rack (i.e. by clearly comprehending the gnostic mysteries,
without any dreg of doubt or sediment of suspense).
If a seeker were to fulfil faithfully the trust (from bearing which the heavens and the earth and
the hills shrank but which man assumed, for which refer to the holy Koran, XXXIII,.72) given to
him by God, assuredly, he will receive the glad tidings of ceceity (eternal tranquility and
certainty).
O cupbearer (lovely master)! Serve the (gnostic) wine to your lovers by the cup of justice, giving
each his due, so that your beggar (lover) may not become obliged, by his-sense of shame and
modesty, to wreak havoc on this fleshly world (for while you are a perfect saint and can put up
with all the calumny these fleshly worldlings shower on you, we are small creatures and do not
have the forbearance to stand acts of injustice, inequity, laud and deception, for which see Sar
Bachan, Prose, Part II, para 201).

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In his longing for the (gnostic) wine, Hafiz gave up the ghost, consumed by agony and anguish;
where is the perfect master with the spellbinding breath who can resurrect me (make me twice
born).
LYRIC 262 (9 VERSES)
1-9. I said (to my beloved master): “When would your mouth and lips (i.e. your sweet, profound
spiritual discourses) make me a success (in my spiritual mission)?”’ He replied: “I swear by my
eyes (i.e. my spiritual pledge given to you) that they will do what you will ask them to do (i.e.
they would respond to your call in proportion to the sincerity and earnestness with which you
give call to them).”
I said: “Your lips (i.e. your divinity) demand from me the Egyptian tribute (the ordeal and
suffering to which Joseph was subjected in the Egyptian prison)’; he replied: “But in making this
demand on you, they don’t subject you to any (spiritual) loss ; (if anything, it would add to your
thirst for me, and more thirsty of my lips you become, the sooner you would attain to them).’’
I asked him: “Who has found the way to the point of your mouth (i.e. the core of your spiritual
majesty, the trace of your ultimate abode of Haq, i.e. Hoot)? He replied: “This is a point which
can be discussed only with those who are the knowers of reconditeness.”
I said to him: “Don’t become an idol-worshipper; become His comrade (i.e. don’t insist on my
loving your outer body, but insist on my loving your inner form). He replied : “In the lane of
love, the lovers do this as well as that” (i.e. they love and worship the outer form of the master as
well as his inner form ; cf. Sar Bachan, Prose Part II, paras 21, 33, 45, 54, 84, 92, 96, 103, 116,
118, 124, 126, 142, 143, 145, 152, 167, 179, 188, 190, 200 and especially 209 which says: “One
who does not love the corporeal form of the perfect master, he cannot be fit for loving his sound
or inner form and howsoever he may try, he will never be able to have access to Saut-i-
Sarmadi...”).
I said, “Love for the gnostic tavern (congregation of the gnostic master) drives out all grief and
worry from the heart’?; he replied, “Blessed are they who make a heart (spiritually) cheerful and
joyous.”
I said: “(Gnostic) wine and khirqa (woollen cloak) are incompatible ingredients in the religious
path.” He replied : “They are allowed in the religion of the perfect (gnostic) master.”
I said : “Of what use are the sweet lips of the one who has ruby-like lips, to an old man (like
me) ?” He replied: “By allowing the old to kiss those ruby-like sweet lips, he (the master)
vivifies the old and makes him young again.”
I asked him: ‘When would the khwaja (i.e. the lover) go to the boudoir of the bride (i.e. the
beloved master) and lift the veil (of secrecy from his gnostic mystery)?” He replied: “At the time
when Jupiter (mushtari) and Moon (mah) would join together (i.e. when dianoetic intellect
symbolized by Jupiter vanishes into gnosis symbolized by moon).”
I said: “The supplication for your favour and exalted grace is the subsistence allowance of
Hafiz.” He replied: “(This is nothing much, for) this is the supplication addressed to the perfect
master by all the angelic beings in all the seven heavenly spheres!”

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LYRIC 263 (8 VERSES)
1-8. What will it matter to you, O master, if from your garden (of gnostic mysteries) I glean one
fruit (the meaning of just one mystery of yours)? What will it matter to you, if by your beacon
light, I see the way one step forward?
O Lord! What will it matter to you (or to him), if I, who is consumed (in the fire of my love for
the master), sit a while in the bosom of the shadow of that lofty or cypress-like master of the
age?
O efficacious Solomon’s ring (with a gem that told Solomon all he desired to know)! What will
it matter to you if. the reflection of that ring of yours falls on the gem of my ruby-like heart?
When the (pharisaical) abstinent of the city has chosen to accept the shelter of the kindness and
love for the king and his police chief (in order to overawe the simple-hearted folk), if I fall in
love with the comely beloved (master) what will it matter to anyone?
The entire precious capital of my life has been expended on my love for the beloved master and
the (gnostic) liquor (i.e. on gnostic mysteries that have made me ecstatic); let me see what comes
to pass on me and what impact it would produce on me.
The gnostic wine has carried away my wits from the abode (chest) of my mind; and if this is the
effect of that (gnostic) wine, I should realize right away (before I get to the end of my life) what
would it leave in the chest of my (traditional) faith i.e. this gnostic wine has made me bereft of
my wits as well as my traditional faith (deen) O Lord!
In as much as I have made the lane of beloved (saints) as my destination and lodge, if you allot
to me a place in the exalted empyrean (Alam-i-Lahoot) what will it matter to you?
(My) khwaja (master) has come to know that I am (his) lover-and he said nothing (i.e. he did not
object to it and approved of my being his lover); if Hafiz too realizes this verity, that I am like
this (i.e. I am accepted as his lover), what will it matter to him?
LYRIC 264 (9 VERSES)
1-9. My soul has melted down in the hope that the spiritual task of my heart may attain to
completion (and my melted soul be reused for my ultimate spiritual destiny), but it did not come
good (i.e. my spiritual task remained unfinished); in the fire of my foolish extravagant passion.
(aarzoo-i-khaam) I became consumed, but my ardent desire remained unfulfilled.
I moan and groan that in my quest for the desired treasure of (gnostic) jewels, I was completely
ruined by the unmitigated affliction and grief it caused to me and became entirely useless for this
world, and yet he (my beloved master) eluded me. (As the poet put it: Gaye deen-o-jahan dono
se hum, na udhar ke rahe, na idhar ke rahe; na khuda hi mila, na wisaal-i-sanam, na udhar ke
rahe, na idhar ke rahe: “Both, the world beyond and this world, are lost to me, so that I could
not belong either to the world beyond or to this fleshly world; I attained to neither God nor to the
fleshly beloved, so that I could belong neither to that realm nor to this realm."
I have come to grief (of regret) and pain, in that in my quest of that exalted (spiritual) treasure of
beholding the master, face to face (ganj-i-huzur), I went a begging to the seers and sages, but that
master eluded me.

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One day he tauntingly (i.e. tantalizingly) told me: ‘‘One of these nights I would preside over
your majlis (i.e. I would occupy central place in your loving heart); I went to his majlis as one of
the lowest of the lowly slaves of his (i.e. I implored his mercy and compassion in the course of
my meditation) but this luck evaded me.
He sent me the message; “One of these days I would sit in the company of the inebriated ones”,
accordingly, I engaged in inebriation and quaffing the gnostic, dreggy wine and became
renowned as a quaffer, but he did not show up (appear).
If the pigeon of my heart writhes and squirms in pain in my bosom, it is only fit and proper, for it
has noticed the tortuous windings on his path (of love) and yet did not turn back.
O spiritual striver! Don’t take a step forward in the lane of love without the dependable guide,
for I myself contrived a hundred precautions and arrangements (for that path) but to no avail (see
also Verse 6 in Lyric no. 221 ante).
In the greed that in a state of ecstasy I will kiss his ruby-like lips, in the wine of a cup, any
amount of blood dripped into my heart, but it was neither here nor there (i.e. I made every effort
in meditation and recitation expecting to have a glimpse of my beloved master’s inner form, but
it eluded me).
In the course of his love for the beloved master, Hafiz resorted to a thousand pretexts and
stratagems to melt or soften him (the beloved master), greedy for success in swaying that
beloved master, but he was not moved, and swerved not a whit.
LYRIC 265 (7 VERSES)
1-7. In the absence of the (glorious) visage of the beloved (master), the rose does not look
beautiful; without the (gnostic) wine springtide does not feel good.
The aspect (i.e. the vista of the rose-beds and the landscape) of the orchard and the breeze of the
fragrant garden, in the absence of the beloved master with cheeks red as anemone, do not appeal.
The dancing of cypress (the advanced gnostics) and the efflorescence (halcyon state) of the rose
(the practitioner of meditation and contemplation), without the warble of the bulbul (the disciple-
in-chief of the perfect master) are not agreeable.
The orchard, the rose (i.e. the congregation and the individual devouts) and the (gnostic) wine
(i.e. gnostic discussions) are delightful, but without the company of the beloved master, they do
not look attractive. Every image (naqsh) that the (artistic) hand of intellect composes, without the
beauteous form of the beloved master, is not pleasing to the eye.
Nothing except kissing and embracing the beloved master (i.e. without deep contemplation on
his inner form), with his sweet lips (i.e. delightful and absorbing gnostic discourses) and with a
body as beauteous as the rose (i.e. his halcyon contact that has a magical effect) is interesting or
stimulating.
O Hafiz! Soul is a contemptible (petty and trivial) cash, and to shower it in oblation unto the
beloved master does not seem to be decent (proper, suitable and fitting). (cf. Ghalib: “Jaan dee,
dee hui usee ki thee; haq tau yeh hai ke haq adaa na hua” - I gave away my spirit but that was
His gift to me; the truth is that I failed to discharge my rightful obligation.)

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LYRIC 266 (8 VERSES)
1-8. I said (to my beloved master), “I am afflicted by you”; he replied, ‘Your affliction would
(soon) cease.” I asked him, ‘‘Become my moon (i.e. favour and guide my star of gnosis)”; he
replied, “Yes, if possible!’’
I asked him, ‘Learn the art of faithfulness from the lovers’; he replied, ‘‘From those whose faces
are like moon, such a thing is least expected.”
I said to him, “The fragrance of your locks (your gnostic mystique) has carried me off this entire
phenomenal world (i.e. I got carried away by the music of Saut-i-Sarmadi you enabled me to
hear)’’; he replied, “Become my thrall and that thraldom would become your path-guide.”
I asked him, “How long will your kind heart take in resolving to have a peace settlement with
me?’’; he replied. ‘‘Endure the hardship and cruelty of my faithlessness so that the hour of peace
settlement may draw nigh.’’
I threatened him, “I am going to barricade the way of my sight on your image (i.e. I am going to
ask my eyes not to build up fancies and images of your form)’; he replied, “My image is a
(determined) thief; if you-close one road to it, it will reach you by some other ‘ route.”.
I challenged him, ‘‘That wind is very pleasing which blows from the Garden of Eden’’; he
rejoined, ‘‘Not at all! That breeze is very cool and refreshing which blows from the lane of your
heart- ravisher.”
I humbly submitted to him, “O beloved master! The sweetness of your lips is so killing that my
ardent desire for it has killed me (bewitched and fascinated me)”; he replied, “You must render
obeisance like a bondsman to me for that would sustain you and your bondsmanship.”’
I sighed before him, ‘‘You have seen how fast these halcyon days passed away”; he replied, ‘‘O
Hafiz! these days of anguish and agony too would not last.”
LYRIC 267 (8 VERSES)
1-8. O comrade! The pearl of the treasure of the gnostic mysteries is even now the same (master)
who was earlier; the casket of my love bears the same seal and stamp that it had earlier (i.e. my
love and loyalty is to the same beloved master).
O master! (Please) enquire from the zephyr (your own Divine impulse) and you will see that the
fragrance of your locks of hair (your gnostic mystique) remained a lovely companion for my soul
throughout the night till dawn-break, as it used to be earlier.
There is no seeker of ruby and pearl (Lahoot and Hahoot) and the perfect saint who can guide a
seeker to those levels of spiritual consciousness), or else the sun (almighty Lord) is ever engaged
in keeping the mine and fountain in perfect trim (so as to despatch a perfect saint to slake the
killing thirst of the seekers who may be writhing and squirming in pain for the sight of the
perfect master).
O master! The colour of the blood of my heart which had reddened your cheeks has gone in
hiding under the cover of the rows of your facial hair, but that red colour of the blood of my-

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heart is evident from your ruby-like lips, as it was earlier, and which anyone can see (i.e. from
your spiritual discourses the meaning of which any ardent lover of yours can perceive).
O master! Your lovers are trustees and knowers of the secret of your love, but the tear-shedding
eyes are the same as they were earlier, and they expose the secret of your love.
(O bewitching master!) You must come for pilgrimage to the shrine (lean and etiolated body) of
your lover who has been killed (fascinated) by your own coyness (your amorous, provocative,
shy manners and looks) ; for, his helpless heart is expectant of you as it ever was.
I had fondly imagined that your unfaithful (Kafir) locks of hair would not waylay (rob and
plunder) me once again (and that enough is enough), but years have gone by, and they (your
unfaithful locks of hair) still retain their former (immodest) disposition and (plunderous) sheen
and shine.
O Hafiz! Once again enact the play of the blood-shedding eyes of yours, for in this fountain, the
same water (of anguish caused by your love for the beloved master) is running as of yore.
LYRIC 268 (9 VERSES)
1-9. I said (to my sinking heart): ‘‘You erred, for this was not the way (to win over the beloved
master).’’ It replied: ‘‘What else could be done, for it was so fated.”
I advised my famished heart, “God has, after all, fulfilled your longing for your union with him
(the beloved master). It replied: “By the term union with him’ I did not mean only this (meeting
him once or twice; what I had ardently desired was to get merged unto him, become one with
him and through him with Him).
I asked my anguished heart, “Which bad companion of yours has hurled you down to this evil
day?” It replied, “My evil fate was itself my evil companion.”
I asked my sinking heart: “O (waning) moon! Why have you cut yourself off from my love (and
gone to my beloved master)?” It replied: “The wheel of time had malice and spite towards me,
undeserving of love.”
I reminded it: “Earlier than this, you have quaffed a good many cups of inebriating gnostic wine
(and so, why are you cursing your fate?). It replied: “My cure lay in the last cup (coup de grace,
which could have effaced my carnal self and merged me unto him) which eluded me.”
Then, I asked my age (life): “O my life! Why have you passed away so soon?” It replied: “O
such and such! What shall I do; life was only so much (beyond which I could not have a single
breath).”
I told my life: “They, (the worldlings) cruelly asked you to toe their line in all spheres (i.e.
directed you-to conform to expected-norms, rituals, ceremonies, standards and attitudes).” It
replied: “All that was there, was inscribed on the tablet of my forehead (i.e. all that was fated,
came to pass).”
I asked my age (life): “The time for your final journey should not have been so early (premature)
as this?’’ It replied: “True, but such was the providence of Time (maslahet-i-waqt, i.e. God's
foreseeing protection find care of His creatures).’’

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I asked my heart: “Why have you gone so far away from Hafiz (to his beloved master)?” It
replied: ‘‘This was my ardent desire, ever and anon!”.
LYRIC 269 (10 VERSES)
1-6. Although the preacher of the city will not take it easy if he were to be told about his wiles
and guiles, the fact remains that he would not truly become a faithful (Musalmaan) so long as he
indulges in deception and duplicity.
O spiritual striver! Learn the art of spiritual inebriation and be generous and kind, for there is no
virtue that can be claimed by one who does not drink (gnostic) wine with- out which one, albeit
in human form, remains a beast, for that (gnostic) wine alone makes a man out of an animal.
In order to qualify for the living master’s favour (faiz), one has to have the pure essence and
capacity for it, or else it is not for every stone and clay to become a pearl and coral.
O my heart, the «Great Name (as revealed by the living master to his earnest disciples) does its
work at its own (i.e. it operates ipso facto and converts a nullifidian into a firm believer), even
though the devil in him (i.e. his carnal soul) by dint of its chicanery and pretensions and specious
pretexts (contrivances and ingenious devices) does not bring to bear his faith in the Great Name.
(Hence take to the Great Name and that. will take full care of the devil in you and make you a
firm gnostic.)
If he that is afflicted by pain (some disease) hides his pain (malady) from the eye of the
physician (the perfect master who alone is the spiritual healer), assuredly, his pain, even without
any other aggravating circumstance, is not curable.
I take to the ardent passion of love and I do hope that this gentle art, unlike other arts, would not
become the cause of deprivation. In other words, while adepts in other arts inspire jealousy, and
com- petition, and instigate discords and disharmony and hatred, I hope the adept in the gentle
art of love would come to no harm and would not be deprived of his peace, for love is giving, no
taking and it is for its own sake. It is the difference between lust and love that this (i.e. love) is
fixed, that (i.e. lust) is volatile. Love grows, lust wastes by enjoyment; and the reason is that one
springs from a union of souls, and the other from a union of senses. Love cannot stay at home; a
man cannot keep it to himself. Like light, it is constantly on the move. A man must spend it,
must give it away. Love never reasons but profusely gives; like a thoughtless prodigal, it gives
all and then trembles lest it has given too little. Love, for this reason, is an image of God, and not
a lifeless image, but the living essence of the divine nature which beams full of all goodness.]
7-10. Yesterday he told me: “Tomorrow I will fulfill the ardent desire of your heart (for union
with me).’’ O Lord ! So contrive the cause that he may not be put to shame (by breaking his
plighted word).
O master! I seek from God for your nature, excellence, inner qualities: tenderness, bravery,
mercy, forbearance, benevolence, courage, justice, sincerity and high mindedness (so that like
Mohammed, the master of his age, you may have a tremendous, exalted nature; vide the holy
Koran, XLVIII, 4)] so that my soul may not be distracted and vexed by you.

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That is, O master! If the worldlings call you crazy you are crazy by the grace of the Lord who
has given you an exalted nature-khulq. “And thou wilt see and they will see which of you is the
demented” (ibid., 2-6).]
O master! One who trembles in fear and anxiety for his life, at the thought of going into the
presence of the beloved (masters and saints), without a trace of doubt, the body of such a
poltroon is not worthy of sacrifice (effacement or fana).
O Hafiz! So long as man, who is a speck of dust, is not audacious and venturesome (heroic and
gallant, doughty and dauntless, with unflinching courage and inexhaustible endurance), he can
never be the seeker of the sharp and penetrating eye of the radiant sun (i.e. no recreant can stand
up to the refulgent and the radiant gnostic master).
LYRIC 270 (6 VERSES)
1-6. Although my beloved master by his amorous ogle inflicts lethal wounds on the
hearts (of his lovers), it is on the cards that, at times, he may cheer my heart by applying the
healing balm (of his love). O sweetheart! If your lover’s consciousness (literally, nostrils) misses
out on the scent of the (gnostic) wine of your ruby-like lips, their eyes would always play the
role of delirium tremens (i.e. it is only the subtle fragrance of your spiritual discourses which
enables your lovers to keep their wits). If only an abstinent develops a fondness for (gnostics)
like me, he would’ become inebriated of the (gnostic) wine and bid adieu to his. consciousness
(hushyaree). O cupbearer (my master)! If that minstrel (i.e. your disciple-in-chief) were to
observe camaraderie with me today, I would both earn the plaudits for drinking (the gnostic
wine) and would also enact the whirling dance. The one with steadfast piety and rectitude (ahl-i-
taqwa) keeps awake every night till the dawn, in the hope that some day he may have the
privilege of drinking the morning (gnostic) wine straight from your own hands (i.e. he may have
your vision during the pre-dawn observance of Sultan-al-Azkar). The poor, wretched Hafiz who
ruined himself by trailing behind him can be rehabilitated by the (gnostic) wine if his cupbearer
(perfect master) stages a comeback.
LYRIC 271 (6 VERSES)
1-6. (O comely master!) If your scattered locks of hair (i.e. your diversified gnostic
mysteries) were to fall into the hands of zephyr (the loquacious and the loose-tongued), wherever
there is a heart (sensitive, righteous and in the right place), it will be thrown to the wind (i.e. it
would be thrown off, becoming confused -and disconcerted). I have cast the ark of my patience
into the ocean of grief (of my love for my master); let me see whither does each and every plank
of it is carried away by this storm of grief (i.e. I have put my endurance to the ordeal of love and
I am not sure: how long will my. Patience last). Everyone aspiring for him, draws a divination
(faal) from his countenance; let us wait and watch who hits the jackpot (literally, on which mark
the winning dice falls). That (gnostic) wine which affords liberation to the hearts from grief,
becomes full of blood of my liver, when my turn comes (i.e. what the other gnostic seekers attain
so easily becomes so difficult and arduous for me). If I have spoken of your black locks of hair
(fragrant and recondite mysteries), as the musk of Khotan, then, O lovely sweetheart, don’t be
irritated and annoyed, for when one speaks of something, one can make an error (of judgment or
fact. That is to say, I am sorry; I erred! I should not have compared your fragrant curly hair with
the paltry, trivial musk of Khotan, or indeed with anything, for you are peerless and so is the
glorious mystery of your locks of hair). Fallen into the hands of affliction caused by his
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separation from you, the plight of the heart of Hafiz has become miserable like the state of that
perplexed lover who has become parted from his beloved.
LYRIC 272 (7 VERSES)
1-7. Only that senseless and frivolous fellow accuses me of ecstasy and passion of love, who
seriously objects to the mysteries of the knowledge of the Invisible (esoteric knowledge).
O spiritually blinded! Notice the perfection (kamala, mumen) of sincerity and love, not the
imperfection of sin, for the who is quit of virtue, his gaze falls only on vice.
My cupbearer’s (i.e. beloved master’s) amorous looks have so waylaid the wayfarers of Islam
that now perhaps only a man like the famous Suhaib (known for his piety) of all the Prophet’s
associates, may escape the (gnostic) wine (i.e. all other pietists and abstinenets would succumb
to the charm of the coyish looks of my beloved master).
The attar (perfume) of the celestial houri would emit its fragrance only f that ho0uri were to
apply the dust of my beloved master’s (gnostic) tavern on her bosom.
The key to the treasure of piety, righteousness and auspiciousness is the acceptance of a seeker
by those who have their heart in the tight place (i.e. those whose hearts are full of love, gnostic
wisdom, generosity and self-restraint); let there be no trace of doubt or Suspicion on this point in
any quarter.
(For instance,) the shepherd of the valley of Aiman (i.e. Moses) attained to his (spiritual)
objective (of having the vision of God) only when he shepherded the goats of Shuy’b (Prophet
Jethro) for many (i.e. eight) years and rendered sincere service to him as a shepherd, by his heart
and soul.
The story of Hafiz would make the blood trickle from the eye, for it reminds the listeners of the
ordeals of love he went through in his youth and the vexations he suffered at the hands of the
vulgar in his old age.
LYRIC 273 (9 VERSES)
1-9. O My heart! Here is the glad tidings about the approaching advent of one (i.e. the master)
with breath like that of Messiah, for the fragrance of his most excellent breaths is fast coming.
Do not moan and groan on account of grief and pain, for last night I drew a divination and it
forecast the advent of a succourer.
From the fire of the valley of Yemen, I alone am not delighted; even Moses when he noticed a
fire on Mount Sinai from afar, was drawn towards it in the hope of beholding a (Divine) spark
and indeed heard a tree saying: «O Moses, Io, I am the Lord of the Worlds!’’: the Koran,
XXVIII, 29-30).
O master! There is none (in this world) who has not something or the other to do with your
street; in this (street of yours) everyone comes tempted by some desire (i.e. the true master’s
congregation is like a huge ship or bera where all sorts of People, haunted by some desire or the
other, fleshly or spiritual, come on board, and it is through the medium of these fellows that the

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perfect master diffuses his spiritual spell on everyone Corresponding to the different levels of
those who are in the congregation).
Nobody, knows where the ultimate abode of the beloved (master) is; all that happens is that they
(i.e. those who practice the Sultan-al-Azkar as prescribed by him) hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi (the
ding-dong of bell from the Alam-i-Jabroot).
O master! Give a draught (of the gnostic wine, i.e. reveal to us your divine mystery) for in the
(gnostic) tavern of the munificent (saints), every friend (lover) comes with a particular ardent
desire (according to his proclivity and samskaras).
Please do enquire about the state of the bulbul (ardent lover of the master), for I am hearing his
lamentation which emanates from the cage (corporeal frame in which he is closed). (Hafiz says
that he is like a bulbul caged in the corporeal frame from which he hears the Saut-i-Sarmadi).
O comrade! If my beloved (master) is thinking of coming to me to enquire about the plight of his
afflicted lover, tell him to come with great pleasure, for he (the afflicted lover) is still breathing
(has not given up the ghost yet).
O comrade! My beloved master has taken it into his head (i.e. taken upon himself) to make a
prey of the heart of Hafiz (i.e. he has assumed the responsibility of redeeming Hafiz); it is as if a
gerfalcon is coming to prey upon a bee!
LYRIC 274 (9 VERSES)
1-5. The minstrel of love (the disciple-in-chief of the perfect master of the age) has a peculiar
instrument and voice; whatever note pertaining to any particular Spiritual realm he Strikes, turns
towards that particular spiritual re ion (level of consciousness, i.e. if he plays upon the bell and
the conch shell, it would take you to Alam-i-Jabroot; if it is drum or timbrel, it would point to
Lahoot; if it is fiddle, sarangi or violin, it would pull you up to Hahoot; if it is flute, it is a call
from Hootal Hoot; and if it is harp, it is a summon from Hoot).
May this world be never quit of the lamentations of the ardent lovers of the master, for he has a
melodious tune and mellifluous sound.
Our poor quaffer of dreggy (gnostic). wine may not have gold and gumption (zar-o-zor), but he
does have a master who is both bounteous and coverer of flaws and transgressions.
It would not be far-fetched (improbable or unlikely) for his sense of equity and justice, if he were
to make (anxious) enquiries (about his lover’s plight), for he is a king who keeps a beggar (lover)
as his neighbour.
O just master! Regard my heart as honourable, for since this bee, the lover of candy, has become
desirous of you, it has come to: have the dignity (literally, fanfaronade) of huma (which if it
overshadows anyone, makes him the king, so that by virtue of my love for you, if anyone comes:
close even to my shadow, he would have the spiritual crown; cf. Verse 140 of Shankar’s
Aprokshanubhutl).
6-9. I showed my tears of blood to several physicians (wise men and sages) and they diagnosed
my ailment to be the affliction of ardent passion of love and they promised that its only cure is
the burning of liver.

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O cheeky master! Don’t pick up the art of oppressing your lovers by your coyish, amorous looks,
for in the religion of love, every (meditational) practice (amal) is a good deed (attended by
reward and recompense) and every other act is an evil deed [to be attended by retribution; cf. the
Koran, XVII, 13-15: “And every man’s deeds (augury) have We fastened to his own
neck...whosoever giveth right, and whosoever erreth, only to its heart. No soul can bear another’s
load...”].
That christian beloved, the son (disciple) of the (gnostic) vintner has well said: “seek (spiritual)
gaiety from the face of one whose heart is burnished and cleansed (of all dirt and filth of ego,
lust, anger, greed, delusion, hatred and envy).
O King (amongst Saints)! Hafiz, the companion of your sanctuary, has recited Al Fatiha (the
Essence of the holy Koran), and expects your tongue to invoke benediction.
LYRIC 275 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O comrade! I and the refusal to take the (gnostic) wine? Will it not be stranger than fiction?
Perhaps, so much intellection is enough for me if I persist in quaffing the (gnostic) wine.
I, the one who has, for innumerable nights, waylaid the wayfarers on the path of (pharisaical)
piety and righteousness, (not in secrecy but) amid the clamour of the resonant sound of the tenor
drum and violin (the Saut-i-Sarmadi of Lahoot and Hahoot), now how can my head be in
submission to that path, what a bizarre farce it would be?
If the (traditional) abstinent does not take to the path of (gnostic) ecstasy, it is because he is
rendered helpless (by the shackles of tradition he has pinioned on himself); but love is an
altogether different Proposition; ardent passion of love in a calling which is conditioned by the
grace of the hadi (the perfect master).
As for me, so far I did not know the way to the (gnostic) tavern (congregation of the perfect
gnostic master); if I had known it earlier, you can imagine the extent to which my real abstinence
(abstinence from fraud, duplicity, hypocrisy) would have taken me.
As it is, I am a thrall of the gnostic master of the (gnostic) tavern, for he has released me from
my crass ignorance; whatever my master does, that would be straightaway his favour, ex gratia.
On the one side, there is the (pharisaical) abstinent, his hubris and his service-prayer (namaz) ;
on the other side, I stand with my (gnostic) ecstasy, and my utter dependence (on the master, i.e.
my utter humility, ego-lessness) let us see which side becomes the recipient of His favourable
attention.
Last night, O comrade, I could not sleep (i.e. kept on praying and meditating) on account of the
anguish caused by a wiseacre who had pontifically declared: If Hafiz continues to drink (the
gnostic) wine, that would be a charge against him.” (I therefore fervently prayed, seeking my
master’s benediction, both for me and for that wiseacre.)
LYRIC 276 (10 VERSES)
1-10. O Muslims (faithfuls)! There was a time when I too had such a heart to which I spoke if
and when a difficulty encountered me. It was a sympathetic heart and a disarming friend (master)
who could determine what was the wisest course to be followed (out of so many courses

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available) and who would be the backbone (source of strength) of everyone having a heart at the
right place.
Whenever I got entangled in the vortex (gurdaab) of some affliction, it was by a strategy devised
by him that I had hope of coasting.
But, now, that (deliberative, calculating, clever) heart has been wasted away (lost) by me in the
street of my sweetheart. O Lord! What a sticky end it met (daamangeer manzil, literally, a
destination which would stick to your shirt).
O my comrades! In these dire straits, take pity on me (the one who has lost his heart to his
beloved master, the heart which could look after him, plan and contrive stratagems and plans),
for at one time (that is now past), that perfect expert in doing all business (the jack of all trades)
was available to me. He was a worthy fellow traveller in the cavalcade of every tribulation in
which this afflicted me became involved.
Since the day my love (for this sensual world, in which I sought money, name and rank) had
endowed me with (literally, taught me) the gift of the gab, all that I did was taken by every
assembly to be to the point (pertinent).
(My) craft (i.e. craftiness) was untainted by the stain of deprivation (by virtue of all of my wiles
and guiles in which my heart was a perfect artist, I was very much honoured in all the assemblies
of the worldly-wise and was also well-to-do): it is a different matter if I had the full
consciousness that none was more spiritually bankrupt and destitute than me. In my quest of him,
my tears shed (scattered) pearls but they could never attain to union with that (beloved master).
Now (after hearing this), henceforth don’t say that Hafiz is conversant with reconditeness, for
now we have seen that he was an egregious Rip Van Winkle.
LYRIC 277 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O comrades! Remember your companion of the night (i.e. I, your friend, who along with
you, used to practise gnostic Meditation); render the obligations of our righteous bondsmanship
(unto our common beloved master).
When you lay your hand of hope around the back of your desire (i.e. when you fondly hope to
realize your ardent desire for union with the beloved friend), remember the days that we passed
together in Gnostic Company.
When the deflection of the (gnostic) wine appears on the countenance of the Cupbearer (the
master) along with the music and melody (that you would enjoy), also bear in mind my
(enforced) abstinence (i.e. my enforced separation from the beloved master).
At the time of rapture, remember the moans and groans and the Saut-i-Sarmadi of violin and
fiddle [the orchestra heard by the lovers (see Rai Saligram, Prem Patra, Volume IV, Soami
Bagh, Agra, Discourse 65)].
Comrades! You do not sympathize even for a moment with the woes and sufferings of the
faithful (lovers of the beloved master). Remember the unfaithfulness of the turning Wheel of
Time (that, in itself, should remind you of the faithfulness of the lovers of the beloved master).

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Although the steed of (worldly) exaltation is very haughty and refractory, but at the time of
exercising your whip hand (your advantage of a dominating position), remember your comrades.
O you, the presiding deities of exalted positions and power! At the time when compassion is
called for, remember the (spotless, stainless) face of Hafiz and that door-sill of his beloved
master. .
LYRIC 278 (7 VERSES)
1-7. I and righteousness and tranquility, oh no, it is a curious medley, of which none would ever
Conjecture (in relation to me), for none would accept this combination, save as hearsay and gues
work about a person inebriated by (the gnostic) wine.
I am covering myself with this garment of pashmina with carvings, for the sake of carrying
(gnostic) wine hidden under the cover of this khirqa so that none could suspect me of my
addiction to drinking this (gnostic) wine, (and this is precisely what the sermonizer does, for
while in his hands he carries the Koran, hidden in his garment is the bottle of fleshly wine).
O jurist of the age! Don’t be toffee-nosed (supercilious and pretentious, Shurra) at your
(specious) knowledge and (deceptive) practice, for none can escape the wrath of the Divine
decree of retribution.
Don’t become infatuated with colour (your present awesome rank) and scent (reputation and
renown); take to quaffing the (gnostic) wine, for nothing save the (gnostic) wine (galvanizing
Divine impulse) of the master of the (gnostic) congregation can wipe out (eradicate) the rust of
woe that plagues your (dismal) heart.
O rose (the one who is all thorn inside of him but puts on the airs of a rose)! Even though your
eyes are your watch and ward (i.e. you are very alert and watchful and you have the curious
questioning eye that seeks to pluck the heart of every mystery).
Be alert and keep your wits lest your cash (hidden secret) should be carried away by your own
watch-dog (i.e. remember, that the balls of sights are so formed that one man’s eyes are
spectacles to another, to read his heart with. It is the eyes that betray your heart, for they speak
with an eloquence and truthfulness surpassing speech. The eye is the pulse of the soul; as
physicians judge the heart by the pulse, so the wise by the eye. Even the comrades look for
man’s intention, right into his eyes, for they are the window of the soul: A wanton eye is the
message of an unchaste heart. Your eyes will not see when your heart wishes them to be blind).
O my master! How can I, the attenuated and etiolated, infirm and depleted, put up with the
affliction of your love, for my frail heart cannot bear the intolerable burden of your separation
from me.
O Hafiz! Don’t seek to persuade those who are already in the know of things, for nobody would
carry the gift of a pearl and jewel to the sea (which abounds in pearls) and the mine (which is full
of jewels, i.e. to try to explain things to the wise who know, is like carrying coals to new Castte
or to carry water to the river—porter de l'eau a la riviere).
LYRIC 279 (9 VERSES)

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1-9. The (gnostic) wine has again got me carried away (made me lose self-control); the (gnostic)
wine, once again, has outwitted me.
A thousand kudos to the red wine (emblem of Lahoot), for it has removed the pale colour
(listlessness) from my face (and has made me lively, full of pep and zap).
I am proud of the hand that gleaned the grape (i.e. I am proud of the: family wherein the master
was born and which looked after him); may God save the feet of those who carried the grape for
fermentation (i.e. those who nurtured and made the environment suited to the master’s gnostic
temper).
O (duplicitous) abstinent! Be gone and don't attribute faults to me (for, the task in which I am
engaged is divine) and the Divine task is no ordinary work (of dianoetic intellect). Right from the
pre-eternal, ardent passion of love has become my destiny; the letters of Divine dispensation
cannot be erased.
O philosopher! Don’t brag of your sophos (wisdom, hikmat), for at the hour of death even an
Aristotle (the father of philosophy, the tutor of Alexander, the founder of the Peripatetic School
at Athens, who talked of four causes the material, the formal, the functional or efficient, and the
final cause, and who held matter as permanent) dies like a helpless Kurd (a member of a largely
nomadic Turkish people living in eastern Turkey, northern Iraq and western Iran).
O seeker! Don’t tie yourself in knots for nothing, and don’t kill yourself with worry; remain gay
and cheerful; if you don’t have brocade, be content with the coarse sheet (for contentment is the
diet of the gnostic. Great is he who enjoys his earthenware as if it were a china plate, and no less
great is the man to whom the golden plate is no more than earthenware. He who is not content
with what he has would not be contented with what he would like to have. Contentment is
natural wealth; luxury, artificial poverty. True contentment depends not upon what we have; a
tub was large enough for Diogenes, but a world was too little for Alexander).
Manage so to live in this world, so that when you die, people may not say that he has died (for
vivit post funera virtus— virtue survives the grave).
Anyone who has quaffed the (gnostic) rack like Hafiz, would become ecstatic from the (gnostic)
‘wine of oneness of God quaffed from the cup of the primeval contract of alast between man and
God.
LYRIC 280 (9 VERSES)
1-9. My love for the black-eyed (the formidable and indefatigable saints that fascinate the
gnostics and terrify the charlatans) would never leave my heart, for this is the decree of heaven
and it could not be changed or altered.
In ‘the pre-eternal, for me, there was no command other than the command of my becoming
(gnostically) ecstatic; what fell to my lot there (in the pre-eternal) could not ever become less or
more.
All that lies in my gumption (majaal) is that I should secretly fall, head over heels, in love with
him; what shall I say about his bosom, of his embrace and of kissing him, for these would not be
my lot (i.e. all that I can do is to love the perfect master and love him ardently; to what extent if

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at all, he permits me to have a glimpse of his inner spiritual majesty is something of which I
cannot speak, even if I yearn for it).
O my heart! Look around and see the favourable environment - the red wine (the glowing gnostic
discourses of the beloved master), a haven of tranquility (i.e. his congregation) and a kind and
gracious cupbearer (the generous perfect master); if you cannot make it now, when would you?
O comrade! Come along so that in accompaniment with the tune of violin, I may quaff the
gnostic wine (i.e. through the Practice of Sultan-al-Azkar I may attain to gnostic comprehension),
for this episode would not be at variance with the beating of drums of sharia and not be
invalidated by the mufti.
O comrade! One night, Majnun (that is I) said to Laila (i.e. my beloved master): "O lovely,
peerless beloved! You may, of course, find a lover but he would not be a Majnun!”
My rivals vexed me no end and left no room for a peaceful compromise; possibly the sighs and
sobs of the morning risers (i.e. those who practise Sultan-al-Azkar in the small hours) would not
reach the spheres (gardoon, heavens).
O my comrade! Come to me so that I may show you the secrets and mysteries of the Wheel of
Time (dehr) inside the gnostic wine, for the task of love would not come good without your
witnessing this marvel.
O my eye! Don’t wash down the scar left by the anguish of love on the tablet of the chest of
Hafiz (by weeping and shedding tears), for this is the scar of the wound inflicted by the arrow of
my heart-ravisher, and the colour of blood will not change (i.e. my love-soaked heart will never
desert its colours, will not become a turncoat or turn tail).
LYRIC 281 (8 VERSES)
1-8. O comrades! Untie the knots of the locks of the beloved master (i.e. probe the gnostic
mysteries of the beloved master); it is a delightful night and prolong it by dwelling upon this
(fascinating) tale (of his gnostic mysteries).
We are in attendance at the assembly of love(rs) and all the lovers are assembled ; read the verse,
“May the Lord ward off the evil eye” and bolt the door from inside (so that the pharisaical
abstinents may not gate-crash).
The rebeck and violin (Saut-i-Sarmadi in Hahoot) are loudly proclaiming: Prick up the ears of
your consciousness (i.e. inner ears to listen attentively) to the message of the knower of the
Divine mystery (i.e. the living master of the age).
Whosoever in this circle (of gnostics) is not alive and kicking by dint of love, on him, by my
fatwa (religious decree), render the funeral service.
O seeker! There is a world of difference between the lover and the beloved (master); when the
beloved preens (naaz), you (as the lover) should prostrate (niyaz).
I swear by the soul of the beloved (master) that anguish (of love) would not tear into your curtain
(your heart in which is hidden your love for the beloved master), if you only trust and rely on the

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favour and grace of that most excellent contriver and deem Him to be sufficient for you (cf. the
Koran, III, 173).
The first and foremost spiritual injunction of the master, who is the dealer of (gnostic) wine is:
“Avoid the non-congeners”’ (i.e. a gnostic should live only with the gnostics, their own class or
group and be averse to and avoid the chasers of fleshly objects, name and fame, the charlatans,
and the pharisaical abstinents).
And if Hafiz were to seek some reward from you (for his gnostic exertions), surrender him to the
care of the soul-sustaining lips of the beloved (master, whose words and discourses are the most
delicious viands for him).
LYRIC 282 (8 VERSES)
1-8. If I were to have access to union with you (literally, if my hands could reach you to
embrace), what else could I implore my destiny to give me ? If in both the worlds, even for a
moment, I sit close to my beloved (master), that moment would indeed be my ultimate
attainment (i.e. I would seek nothing more than this). What is there to wonder at the flurry of get-
up-and-go at your door, by your lovers, for wherever there is the abode of sugar (Sugaristan), the
bees would necessarily be there. “Where would the drowner (in the sea of love) find the escape
route, if he is encircled by the billows of the ordeal of ardent passion of love, both in front and
back? O lovely master! Why should you need a. sword (an extraneous weapon) to slay your
lover, because for a half-dead or half-alive like me, one chic (stylish stroke) of your charisma
would do. He (my beloved) must have become acquainted with me (i.e. introduced to me) a
thousand times, but, then, look at his sauciness that every second time when he notices me, he
asks: “Well who could this man be?” Since the hand of my luck falls short (of my ardent desire),
how can it have access to your lofty cypress-like height (i.e. no matter what I do and however
long I try, I cannot attain to his Divine mystery). Colourful (spiritually vivid, rich and stimulating
gnostic) wine and the company of the sweetheart (the beloved master) are the best and the most
beautiful one could aspire for; Hafiz, who has lost his heart (to his master), would always be
haunted by this temptation.
LYRIC 283 (6 VERSES)
1-6. From the cruel hands of separation from you, O master, very moment I solicit release; it is a
pity that even the wind (the drive of my ardent desire) does not carry my moans and groans to
you. O master! Tell me what else shall I do if I do not wail and weep? for in the state of
separation from you I am reduced to such dire straits to which I wish even my worst evil wishers
may not come to. Day and night, I live (literally, feed myself) on sorrow and suffering (literally,
anguish and blood); and why not, for I am remote from your glimpses and, therefore, how can I
have a cheery heart? Since you have gone far away from my sight, me whose heart. is burnt out
in the fire of your love, there is many a stream of blood which my heart has shed through the
eyes. From every eyelid of my eyelashes (the eyelids from which the curved hairs of the eyelash
grow), hundreds of drops of: blood had trickled when my heart, on account of the pain of
separation from you, preferred a heart-rending appeal for mercy. O master to whom Hafiz has
lost his heart in love! Day and night, he is sinking into the agonizing pit of your remembrance,
and you are totally unconcerned with the wretched state of your bondsman with a wounded heart.
LYRIC 284 (7 VERSES)

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1-7. O my heart! Be of good cheer, for the zephyr (the Divine impulse of the master) has arrived
once again; the happy hoopoe has hailed from Sheba with sure tidings (see the Koran, XXVII,
22- 44).
O morning fowl! Commence singing the melody of David (with whom the hills and the birds
hymned His praise under God’s commandment; See ibid., XXI, 79), for the rose of Solomon
from the direction of Ether has come once again (i.e. the perfect master has become manifest
again, who will once again, sing of the Saut-i-Sarmadi).
From the breath of the morning (i.e. from the pre-dawn meditation), the red anemone (advanced
gnostic) smelt the fragrance of (gnostic) wine (spiritual mysteries of the region of Lahoot); his
heart had become scarred (by the wounds of love), and in the fervent hope of cure, it moved
again (became stirred).
Where is the gnostic) ho could comprehend the speech of hyacinth (with its petals compared to
ten tongues, i.e. the perfect master! who would explain Divine mysteries in ten different ways)
and ask him, “Why did you leave (us) and why have you come back once again?
My God-gifted luck has been so brave in showing its grace and favour to me, that that stony-
hearted beloved master, took to the path of faithfulness and has come back (become manifest
once again).
Trailing behind this caravan (of the perfect master, his disciple-in-chief and his elect), I have
sighed and sobbed a good deal, so much so that the ear of my heart (i.e. my inner car) once again
could hear the ding dong (representation of the sound of bell one hears in Alam-i-Jabroot).
Although I broke my plighted word (i.e. I ever failed to comply with his commands or to practise
Sultan-al-Azkar as directed by him), and in this, Hafiz committed transgression and sin; look at
his favour and grace that in order to rectify my errors (to restore me to the path of gnostic
righteousness in the spirit of alast) he himself has come back to my door.
LYRIC 285 (12: VERSES)
1-6. O my heart! My life-breath has gone out of my being and my (spiritual) objective for the
realization of which I had fastened my gaze on your ardour has not yet been fulfilled; I fervently
cry and wail, for my sleeping destiny (for which see note in Verse 6, Lyric 187) has not yet been
roused from its deep slumber.
It is on the cards that that purpose may be attained by the beauty (Divine mystery) of the visage
of that heart-elevating beloved (master), for by no other method successful completion of that
task seems possible.
Alas! This dear (valuable) life has passed off engrossed in this desire (of redemption) but the
affliction caused by the insoluble mystery of your black (mysterious) locks appears to be
interminable.
In the frustration of my desire for the dust of your feet, 1 am so dying that the Water of Life (i.e.
your Divinity) is not sighted by me.
There are quite a few tales of (woe and suffering of) my heart to be related to the morning zephyr
(to your Divine impulse in the course of my predawn contemplation), but then because of ill-

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stars, tonight seems to be endless and the small hours are eluding me (i.e. I am unable to
concentrate in my contemplation of you, O master)!
It seems that unless and until I embrace your tall majestic stature in my embrace (i.e. until I fully
comprehend your lofty spiritual majesty), the tree of the fate of my ardent desire would not
fructify (i.e. my sleeping destiny would not be roused).
7-12.

O master! My heart has stayed put in the folds of your locks for it had that delightful, enrapturing
smell but there is no news I receive about the plight of that afflicted traveller (who has travelled
on to your locks, i.e. I continue to be beside myself).
Alas, I could not sacrifice my life and all my belongings unto the beloved master; what a pity
that I could not do as little as that in the cause of my love for my beloved master.
(O comrade! Look at my tragedy!) The arrow of my morning hours (i.e. my concentration during
the pre-dawn exercise of Sultan-al-Azkar) never missed the target (i.e. I always succeeded in
hitting the jackpot during my morning meditation); I don’t know what has happened now, that
not even one arrow (effort) comes good.
From the bow of my righteousness (i.e. from the nukta-i-sveda) I shot a hundred arrows of
implorations, but none out of them has the desired effect.
O Hafiz! The least of the terms and conditions of faithful love is to let the head go (forsake and
abandon ego of all shades, levels and depths); be gone, if you cannot fulfill them.
O master! The heart of Hafiz has withdrawn from all and sundry (has become fed up with
everyone around), for now it refuses to come out of the coil of your locks of hair.
LYRIC 286 (9 VERSES)
1-9. What a good thing it would be if everyone claiming to be genuine cash could be subjected to
testing and weighing, so that those who haunt the churches, mosques and temples would abandon
their hypocrisy and fraud and become engaged in meaningful (gnostic) pursuit.
As for me, I have discovered that it would be wise and expedient if all my (gnostic) friends
abandon all their (useless, external) ways and means and firmly grasp the coils of the locks of my
beloved (master).
My comrades have taken a firm hold of the locks of the cupbearer (the gnostic master), if only
the Wheel of Time (falak) leaves them undisturbed, so that they may firmly settle on the way (to
gnosis).
O Lord! I wonder how valiant are these scions of Turkoman (i.e. those perfect masters who are
the scions of Haq, the satt Purush, the deity of Hoot) so that every moment, by the arrow of their
eyelashes they make someone as their prey.
To dance (in ecstasy) on the rhyme of a (gnostic) refreshing verse, and the wailings of the (reed)
flute (the sound of Hootal Hoot, the Rotating Cave where spirits swing and dance in ecstasy) is
rapturous, especially that dance in which the dancer holds the hand of a beauteous beloved

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(master, i.e. that contemplation and meditation yields the most rapturous delight for the gnostic
seeker in which he holds the image of his master as the focus of his attention).
In the presence of the beauteous (saints), don’t make much of the strength of arms of your
abstinence (which at the first gust of carnal passion would melt away leaving you high and dry),
for in this vast array (of your carnal passion) one whole fortress (the castle of airs of self-restraint
that you have put on) can be subjected by one horse-rider (mind of man is comparable to a horse
which, at the first gust of passion can go berserk so that you come a purler in no time).
When a carrion crow (the chaser of flesh) does not feel any sense of shame in trampling arose
under its feet (i.e. when the beastly pedestrians do not hesitate in reviling and jeering at a saint),
it is fit and proper for the bulbuls (lovers of saints who are like roses) to hold their own by
holding fast with the thorns (that are the shield of the rose, i.e. they must stick to the irksome
spiritual discipline as prescribed by the saint).
O master! For ages, the men of insight and perception adhere to the Way (of gnosis) in the hope
that they would thus be able to make the dust of your path, as the collyrium of their eyes (i.e.
firmly seated in the path of gnosis, the gnostic seekers keep on praying silently, for prayer is a
groan and their groans too are prayers.
The very cry of distress is an involuntary appeal to that Invisible Power whose aid the soul seeks;
the greatest prayer is patience. No churl or charlatan can hinder our private addresses to God;
every gnostic can and does build a chapel in his chest, himself the priest his heart and soul the
sacrifice, and the earth he treads on, the path and the altar. By keeping to the path, the gnostic
launches a sally of his soul into the unfound infinite).
O Hafiz! The (lascivious) pillars of this (fleshly) world are not concerned with the plight of the
miserable (gnostics); if possible, the best for them would be to leave them alone.
LYRICS 287 (11 VERSES)
1-11. It is not that everyone who has burnished his face has acquired the skill of heart-ravishment
(i.e. outwardly beauty is no sign of sainthood), nor is it true that everyone who can contrive a
mirror (-like heart, i.e. who can put on the appearance of a clean heart) knows the conquering
skill of Alexander the Great (i.e. can carry off the hearts of people by his charisma).
It is not that anyone who has pulled his cap crookedly on one site and sits in the posture of a
toffee-nosed, exultant, stiff-necked (haughtily stubborn and obstinate, for which see the Koran.
XVII. 37) has become crowned and knows the royal ways (every stutterer is not a peacock and
every meretricious woman does not become a lady).
Here, in the way of gnosis, there are recondite points galore points subtler than a hair; it is not
that every shaveling knows how to function as a calendar (a begging order of dervishes, founded
in the 13th century by Qalandar Yusuf al-Andalusi, a native of Spain, with the obligation of
perpetual wandering on its members).
I am drowned in the ocean of the water of my eyes (tears) what shall I do (to escape)? for not
every- one who gets into the middle of the ocean knows swimming (i.e. love is a sea of fire and
not every lover can cross by drowning into it).

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I am the thrall of the attention of that gnostic who is the destroyer (disturber) of tranquility (i.e.
who makes my soul restless in love for the master), and knows the art of alchemy even in his
beggary (i.e. who is allover or beggar and who by his love for the master can transmute base
metals into gold; i.e. who can transform a crass sinner into a perfect saint).
O master! It is your beauty spot which enables me to cross the nukta-i-sveda (and look beyond
the higher spiritual regions), for the worth of a peerless pearl (that your beauty spot is) is known
only to a jeweller (a genuine gnostic seeker).
In the game of love I have gambled away my heart (to a son of Adam, the perfect master); (and
the fool that I am), I could not realize that the scion (a son) of Adam knows the craft (sheva) of a
peri (i.e. perfect master knows the skill of a peri, and he can be as eluding and bewitching as a
peri).
Everyone who in respect of his countenance and stature has become a king of the beauteous (the
qutb-al-aqtoob, the pillar of pillars), he could hold-the whole world in his spell, if he knows how
to deal out justice (to his lovers).
O master! If you care to learn (anything, for you know everything and hardly need to know
anything more), then the best thing you can (still) learn is to adhere to the pledge of faithfulness
(i.e. you must learn what you have not learnt so far, i.e. be faithful to your lovers) for wherever
you look around, you! will see that everyone knows faithlessness (as his specialty and expertise).
O seeker! Don't go about doing bondsmanship (i.e. seeking) like a beggar for the sake of wages
[i.e. for the sake of paradise; the seekers of the world are doomed (maqhoor); the seekers of
paradise are mercenaries (mazdoor); the seekers of God are blessed (masroor), for your master
(aaqa) himself knows the ways of looking after his bondsmen (and he will give you what you
need and deserve, and even more).
Only that person can become aware of the meaning of the attractive verses of Hafiz, who has
finesse (subtlety and tact) in his disposition and knowledge of the nuances of poesy in chaste
Persian.
LYRICS 288 (VERSES 11)
1-11. In this city (Congregation) there is no such beauty (Sage or sadh) who can ravish my heart
and, given the friendly smile of my luck, who can carry off my wits from my mind (who can, by
his ability, deceive or misguide me).
Who is such a bewitching and intoxicating beloved (saint) before whose favour and grace, a
lover with a heart consumed in the fire of his love, can even so much as aspire for anything, or
anyone else?
In my phantasmagoria, I am playing all this fanciful game in the hope that may be someone with
perception and insight can begin to perceive this theatre (tamasha) that I am.
Even though, the path of love is the ambuscade of the archers (the ghouls and devilish forces of
the carnal mind who are the brigands that infest the path of love or gnosis), yet, if a wayfarer
goes along that path carefully and with full awareness (of the devil in him) can carry the day and

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win the contest against his enemies (his carnal lusts). (The miracles of sorcery cannot stand up to
marvels (of saints).
O seekers, keep your heart in the right place; who is a Samiri who can carry the day in contest
with the eggshell hand of Moses? [See the holy Koran; XXVIII, 31-32. In other words, those
endowed with slight powers of spirituality are not adepts of any order; they only make a wanton
show of their powers and abuse them for the exhibition of legerdemain. The marvels (maujza)
shown by the saints are very rare and they are intended only for the advanced devotees and
gnotics who are fit for access to higher planes. Refer to Pandit Brahm Shankar Misra alias
Maharaj Saheb, Discourses on Radhasoami Faith, Soami Bagh, Agra, 1989 edition, pp. 71-79:
The decanter of strong (gnostic) liquor (meena) is a stopper (plug) to prevent and bar constricting
(grief) from entering into the heart (of the gnostic); don’t put it off your hand (i.e. don’t lose
interest in and enjoyment of it) or else the waves of flood of affliction will wash and sweep you
off your place.
O gardener (the pharisaical, oblivious abstinent, putting on airs of having a bunch of flowers or
fools as their followers)! I am noticing you as completely forgetful of the imminent autumn (the
exposure of your true colours which would ruin your garden, and you and your proteges would
wither away); you would wear a woe-be gone countenance (surrounded by woe) when the airs
you have given yourself would carry away your beautiful rose (your pretensions and hauteur).
The waylayer that Time is, hasn’t gone to sleep; do not be complacent and smug about it (its
vicissitudes); if he has not carried you away today, it would definitely carry you off tomorrow.
Don’t be taken in by the bellowing sound of a calf (of saffron hue, produced by the magic of
Samiri, for which refer to the Koran, XX, 88); how can a shooting star (a flashy, transient,
deceptively garish pseudo saint and a pharisaical abstinent) carry away the lustre of the radiant
sun (the perfect saint)?
The erudition and excellence of learning that my mind has gathered and accumulated in forty
years, I am afraid, that daffodil-like, fascinating eye (of my perfect master) can carry off in a
moment (for he would make me aware that what I learnt in forty years is nothing in comparison
with ,what I was ignorant of all these forty years, and that I was then only a beast of burden with
a load of books, of the meaning of which I was not at all aware).
O Hafiz! If his narcissus-like bewitching eyes were to ask you for your life itself, ask every-
thing alien to the master to quit the abode of your heart, ‘and leave everything so that he can
Carry it off (so that he may rid your heart of all the dirt and filth of worldly desires, longings and
yearnings).
LYRIC 289 (9 VERSES)
1-9. (O seeker! With the advent of the perfect master) the breath Of the morning zephyr (i.e. our
pre-dawn meditation) would become the showerer of musk; the old, learned fool would become
young again (i.e. the man who became old with the load of learning without becoming wise,
would acquire the art of growing old which is the master-work of wisdom, and would shed the
fear of death by dying to his flesh before death).

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The syringa persica (the zestful gnostic seeker) would pass on the cup of (gnostic) carnelian to
jasmine (i.e. the gnostic seekers of diverse degrees and categories would help each other in their
gnostic evolution); the kindly, knowledgeable, perceiving eye of the narcissus (the perfect
master) would watch the growth of the red anemone.
The rose (the lovely master) is dearest to us and we should count his company as a rare of the
rarest boons, for he has entered the garden (congregation) through this route (i.e. by the urge of
the Supreme Being when He sees the eagerness of seekers) and would go away by that route (i.e.
by the command of the Supreme Being when He notices the utter indifference of the seekers).
(Meanwhile,) the bulbul (the most ardent lover of the master) would fly up to the rose-bed (the
mansion of the perfect master) warbling under trills and runs, articulating the torments he has
suffered by his separation from the rose (the master).
O my heart! If you postpone today’s (spiritual) rapture and delight for tomorrow (i.e. if you
postpone your spiritual practices of Sultan-al-Azkar and postpone your self-effacement or fana
for tomorrow, which may never come), who would become the surety for the cash of your
subsistence (baqa) in the being of the Lord?
Don’t let the cup of (gnostic) wine go out of your hand in the month of Shabaan (preceding
Ramadhan, fasting) for this, by the time you sight the moon of Id at the end of Ramadhan, would
have disappeared. [In other words, live while you live; drink the gnostic wine when the beloved
perfect master is manifest; if you procrastinate and wait for some better time, you can be certain
it would never come and the present sun that is shining in its splendour would have vanished. By
the streets of ‘‘by and by’’, one only, arrives at the ruined house of “Never”. Don’t pass your life
in deliberation, for then you would die upon it. He who prorogues the dedication (bhakti)
available today till tomorrow, will prorogue his tomorrows till eternity and on to the perdition of
hell. If you don’t avail of today’s shining sun, your situation would proclaim: ‘‘Here is a man
who says I wouldn’t do this just because it ought to be done!? Faith in tomorrow, instead of in
the living master, is Satan’s nurse for man’s perdition. To seek the pleasures of shaitan (Satan) at
the end of Ramadhan would be an act of madness.
O minstrel (disciple-in-chief of the perfect master)! This is the assembly (majlis) of love! Recite
the love lyrics and sing melodiously; low long will you advise us: “The present state is like this;
let it become like that."
O worldling! If I have gone out of the mosque into the (gnostic) tavern, don’t blame me ; (I had a
good reason for it :) the concourse of the preacher is very boring with its dilatory and long-
winded, silly sermons (that make me yawn), and meanwhile the time (for my spiritual
redemption) would run out.
O my beloved master! Hafiz has entered the realm of existence (aqleem-i-wajood) only for your
sake; step out towards him (i.e. take longer strides) to bid him adieu for he is about to depart.
LYRIC 290 (7 VERSES)
1-7. The cash (pretentions) of Sufi (i.e. all his spiritual humbug and claptrap) will not all be clean
and without gilt; a great many khirqas of his would be worth putting to fire (i.e. he would have
many a skeleton in his cupboard that would incinerate his reputation).
On the contrary, our (gnostic) Sufi who used to become inebriated by his qualling the dreggy
(gnostic) wine in the morning (i.e. become ecstatic to the pre-dawn meditation), if you see him in
the evening, you would once again sec him in (gnostic) ecstasy.

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How wonderful (excellent and fine) it would be if the touchstone of experience intervenes
(between one’s claim of goodness and the fact of his goodness), in that whosoever has gilt
(falseness of claim) he may come out in his true (literally, black) colours (divested of all that is
meretricious).
The mollycoddle (pampered with indulgent care) can never attain to the beloved (master); love-
knot (aashiqui) is the calling (shawa) of those inebriated and with capacity for enduring
tribulations, and who are long-suffering.
If the clean and loud instruction of the cupbearer (beloved master) were to leave a feeble and
evanescent impression on us as a line drawn on water (naqsh-bar- aab), a great many faces (i.e.
very many gnostic seekers) would bear the script of blood (i.e. they would come to regret,
remorse and shame, if they do not firmly adhere to the spiritual discipline described by the
perfect master).
O spiritual striver! How long will you suffer the stings and arrows of this despicable (lecherous)
world? Quaff the (gnostic) wine; woe worth the day if the heart of an intelligent person becomes
vexed-and perplexed (by this fleshly, deceptive and crafty world).
Hafiz is served (the gnostic) wine by the hand of that moon-like beloved vintner (master of the
gnostic wine); the mantle and the prayer-mat of Hafiz would be carried off by that vintner
(i.e..the intimate company of the beloved master would rid Hafiz of the claptrap of Sufism and
would make him a true gnostic).
LYRIC 291 (12 VERSES)
1-12. O master! If I have related (i.e. compared) your countenance with the moon and the ring of
Ursa Major (surayya), I have drawn on that simile on the basis of guesswork, without having
beheld your face (in its full splendour).
The parables having a bearing on the love of Farhad and Shireen on which I have drawn, are an
iota of the long story of uproarious and tumultuous love affair [i.e. the love of Firhaad and
Sheerin, all said and done, was fleshly even though it is good enough as a simile, just as the love
of the fish for water is famous and is good enough as a metaphor, but the love of the loving
seeker for his beloved master is wholly outside the gamut of body and mind and is purely
spiritual, as between a surat (part) with the Soami (whole).
The dust of the lane of those beloved (saints) with faces blooming as rose, has the blissful
fragrance (nikhat) that is soul-elevating ; the gnostics have scented the smelling faculty of love
by that musky fragrance from that lane (i.e. the gnostic’s love for the master is sustained by the
fragrance of his lane, i.e. by his gnostic discourses and instructions).
O comrades! Those who are biting-or kissing the dust of the path of the beloved master in utter
humility, and are dead to their flesh, are deprived of a draught of sustenance from the bowls of
the worldly generous magnates. Look at this torture which they have inflicted on the miserable
lovers (of God)!
The bat (the blind), the carrion crow (the lecherous), and the eagle (the raggart) are not fit for
preying and capturing (by the saints); this honour (of making someone their prey and making

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them their captive) they have reserved for the gerfalcons and the white, sore-hawk (shaheen, i.e.
the advanced gnostics who are destined to return to the Divine abode without much delay).
O cupbearer (master)! Give me (the gnostic) wine, for there is no way the pre- eternal
dispensation could be countered; whatever they have ordained does not admit of any alteration or
radical change.
O seeker! Become alienated from (dianoetic) intellect, and like your spirit, embrace the daughter
of grape (the gnostic wine) in your arms (or wedding union), the cash jointure of which is fixed
in terms of (discursive) reason [i.e. when you enter into wedding union with the gnostic master,
you have to pay jointure in terms of your reason and intellect, for that alone your bride (the
beloved master) would accept. As the poet has said: “Gar aana hai mehfil-i-jaanaa mein, tau
hosh-o-khirad ko chhod ke aa; O hosh-o-khirad ke diwane, wahan hosh-o-khirad ka kaam nahin
—If you wish to enter the assembly of the beloved (master), come after leaving your wits and
discursive reason! There is no room there for either wits or discursive reason’”].
O worldlings! Don’t look down upon the cups of clay (hearts made of water and clay) with
contempt, for those lovers (of the masters) have rendered service to the cup of Jamshed, which
could perceive the cosmos (i.e. they are the thralls of the sovereign Lord of the cosmos, the
living master).
What my beloved master’s long locks of hair and his beauty spot (i.e. his silent communication
of Divine impulse to my heart and soul) have done, even the arrows of his long hairs of
eyelashes and his spell-casting coyish ogle (his formal commands) have not done.
O master! Our due reward was a little sugar from you which your sweet lips refused to award
(i.e. your lips did not permit us to kiss them and receive direct Divine communication from
them); now, O master, you yourself deal out justice to us for the acts of injustice that your sweet
lips have committed!
O seekers! These beloved saints, by the glowing fire of their colourful (lovely) cheeks, have
inflicted cuts and bruises on, and bored holes in the hearts and traditional faiths of these
(crooked) abstinents.
O master! The verses of Hafiz, which from end to end are in adulation of your favour, grace and
goodness (ehsan), wherever they (these crafty abstinents) have heard even they have applauded
their delicate touch and nuances.
LYRIC 292 (11 VERSES)
1-11. When these preachers flash (ostentatiously display) their (supposed) spiritual talents on the
pulpit and at the niche (mihrab) of the mosque, when alone they do something different (i.e. they
indulge in gratification of their lust, take alcoholic drinks to excess).
O comrade! I am confronted with a difficulty (problem), about which you may take counsels
with a seer of the (gnostic) majlis (congregation), viz. why do those who command others to
repent, themselves do not repent?

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(So to say,) they do not really believe in the Day of Judgment (when the Supreme Lord would
come to judgment) or else they would not bring to bear gilt (falseness) and duplicity (dagha) in
matters pertaining to the Supreme Lord.
O Lord! Seat these newly rich (i.e. upstarts, risen suddenly to a position of power and wealth) on
the back of their own asses, for they make an ass of themselves (expose themselves to ridicule)
by putting on airs of being the owners of slaves and mules. (The term “slave” alludes to their
habit of pederasty and the term ‘‘mule’’, the offspring of a male ass and a mare, reflects on their
being hybrids, duplicitous, stubborn and obstinate the well-known characteristics of mules. They
also shoe their mules, i.e. misappropriate moneys committed to their trust.)
As for me, I am the bondsman of such a master of the (gnostic) tavern, that his beggars (lovers),
by their unconcernedness (with wealth and the world) throw dust on the head (store) of (worldly)
treasures (i.e. they treat this world, and its riches, as also paradise, with utter contempt).
O the beggar of monastery (gnostic congregation)! Come here, for in the temples of magians (the
gnostic tavern of gnostic tosspots), they serve only one water to all (irrespective of their rank and
position, i.e. the gnostic water, the Water of Life) and by virtue of it they make the (frail) hearts,
stout (resolute, forbearing, courageous, valiant and capable of endurance).
The moment his (i.e. perfect master’s) unfathomable beauty kills one set of his lovers, another
band, deep in love with him, lifts its head out of the Invisible (i.e. the number of his lovers whom
he redeems is incalculable).
O my heart! Empty your abode (of everything extraneous or alien to the beloved master all lusts,
desires, yearnings, hankerings and longings), so that it may become the resting place of the
sweetheart (the beloved master), for this lecherous heart and lustful mind make themselves the
abode of one, other than the beloved master.
I cry for mercy (safety) from the hands of jewellers (i.e. the vulgar adherents of charlatans) who
are not connoisseurs of jewels, for any moment they put the cowrie (i.e. the fake master) on a par
with pearl (i.e. a perfect saint).
O angelic being (earnest devout)! Recite the rosary (the Great Name) on the door of the tavern of
love (at the nukta-i-sveda, the gateway to the Lord’s abode), for here they leaven the dough
(nature) of Adam with (gnostic) wine.
In the morning (i.e. pre-dawn. recitation of the Great Name, dhikr-i-khafi), from the empyrean
(Alam-i-Jabroot) the dulcet, resonant sound of recitation was emanating as much, as to say that
the empyrean-dwellers memorize the verses of Hafiz.
LYRIC 293 (11 VERSES)
1-11. One who has come to know the secret of his heart (which is the abode of love for God),
remained in the mansion of his beloved master; one who did not come to terms with his heart,
remained off (i.e. remained out of that gnostic business).
If my heart has come out of the curtain (i.e. has exposed its love for the master) don’t blame it;
for thank God, he did not persist behind the curtain of hauteur and ego (for love of the master has
eliminated ego).

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While the other Sufis who had mortgaged all they had to the (gnostic) wine (became disgusted
and) redeemed (recovered) their mortgaged property (i.e. recovered their wits and broke faith
with gnosis), there is that khirqa (mantle) of mine (i.e. my mind and heart) which was left for
good in the house of the distiller (of divine, spirituous liquor, the beloved master).
All those who were wearers of Sufi’s mantle and lost (in chicanery and specious, gilded Sufism)
passed away, with none to remember them; but when it came to my tale, it is the talk of every
street and every bazaar (of gnostics).
I had only one tattered jacket (gud-di, i.e. broken-heart) which used to cover up my hundreds of
deficiencies (and lapses and my girdle of traditional faith); when that jacket became pawned with
the (gnostic) wine (the beloved master) and his minstrel (his disciple-in-chief), only the girdle
was left (which now instead of covering up my deficiencies exposed them to the public view).
I did not notice any reminiscence more comforting and more beautiful under this traversing
dome (firmament or the Wheel of Time) than the resonance (echo) of the Word of love (the noise
and nostalgia of the Great Name, or Saut-i-Sarmadi).
Every drop of that ruby- like (gnostic) wine (emblem of Lahoor) which I received from the
(gnostic) cup of moon-stone (the gem of orthoclase that is white and translucent with bluish
reflections emblazing the rays of the Universal Mind or Brahnm), that turned into the water of
my despair (hasrat of not getting more of it) and stayed put (as tears) in my tear-drops-shedding-
eyes.
Save my heart who is there (in this world), who is the lover (of that beloved master who has that
cup of moon- stone) from the pre-eternal to eternity? I have not heard of anyone else who
remained engrossed in that (gnostic) business forever.
O master! The narcissus (that is my eye) in its bid to become transmuted into your (perceiving)
eye only succeeded in. becoming ill and bleary; it failed to acquire your wont and sight (shewa)
and remained ill (at ease).
The (beauteous) Chinese idol was so much stupefied and astounded by your perfect beauty
(mysterium fascinan), O lovely master, that the face of its stupefaction (astonishment and
bewilderment) remained installed on the doors and walls (i.e. their beautiful pictures hung on the
walls and doors in picture galleries are a testimony stupefaction caused by your perfect beauty).
One day (and just for one day), the heart of Hafiz went to the theatre (the place of tamasha) of
their of his beauteous locks of hair (in order to witness what Divine mysteries they contain
within their coils) hoping that it would come back at the end of that day, but it was captivated
forever (and never staged a comeback).
LYRIC 294 (9 VERSES)
1-9. Everyone who has a composed and tranquil heart (sang-froid) and a sweetheart as his
beloved (master), propitiousness becomes his comrade and he is ever accompanied by (spiritual)
exaltation as his close companion.
The court of His Majesty the Love, is considerably loftier than the castle of (dianoetic) intellect;
only he who wears his heart on his sleeve (ready to lay down his life and act boldly, openly

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professing his love for the beloved master, unafraid of the jibes and sneers of the worldlings),
can manage to kiss the portals of that (majestic) court (of love).
O (worldly) affluent! Don’t look down upon the broken-hearted (enfeebled and wizened by the
grief of love) and the beggars (lovers of the perfect master), for the presiding seat on the dais of
(spiritual) honour is occupied by that fakir who sits on the (gnostic) path for by virtue of his
faqah (fasting), qanat (contentment), yad-i-Ilahi (recitation of the Great Name, remembrance of
God), and riyazat (penances), the fakir (with four letters : fe, qaf, ye and re) has become the king
of kings.
His (beloved master’s) narrow, sweet mouth is perhaps the ring of Solomon (that had a gem that
told him all he desired to know), for the word (naqsh) that drops from the ring of his ruby-like
lips, keeps the whole cosmos under the spell of its gem.
So long as you live on the earth, treat your get-up-and-go (your energy, drive and ambition) as a
rare opportunity (ghanimat), for Time has lot of temporariness (weaknesses) under the
(apparently solid surface of the) earth (i.e. in the grave you would be wholly helpless,
insensitively paralysed, unable to do anything to help your soul and, therefore, live while you
live).
The prayers of the needy are aversive of the tribulations and sufferings of the heart and soul (i.e.
if you come to the rescue of the needy ones, they would pray for you and their prayers would
repel the imminent pains and sufferings that could afflict your heart and soul). In a granary
(wealth) in which the gleaners (i.e. the small people who are needy) are held in contempt, who
can find safety and security (i.e. the wealth in which the needy ones are allotted no share and
whose owner looks down upon the needy as despicable, is accursed and such wealth would fail
to give any sense of security and peace of contentment to its owner).
O zephyr! Speak to that king of the beauteous (the qutb-ul-aqtoob, the pillar of the pillars) about
the quintessence (ramz) of my love (for him), for he is the one who keeps in his thralldom, a
hundred Jamsheds and Kaikhusroes as his thralls of the lowest order.
With ruby-like lips (insignia of Lahoot) and fragrant row of hairs his full moon-like visage
(insignia of Hahoot), he (my master) has “that” as well as ‘‘this’’; as it is, 1 am proud of my
heart-ravisher that his beauty has “‘that” as well as “this”.
O comrade! If (my beloved master) tells you, ‘‘I don’t want a slave of such a a quality as Hafiz",
please tell him, “The fakir who firmly sits on the dust of your way has already been conferred
(spiritual) sultanate (by you).”
LYRIC 295 (8 VERSES)
1-8. Everyone who keeps (a kindly) eye on those who are faithful and loyal to him, God, in all
situations, averts tribulation from him.
O seeker! If you desire that your beloved (master) may not break with you (discontinue
association with you), keep an eye on your bonds with him so that he may keep his eye skinned
(i.e. may watch you vigilantly).

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I don’t reveal the words and activities of the beloved (master) to anyone, save the beloved
himself, for a (true) friend ever keeps his eye out for the friend’s words (i.e. watches them with
special attention). (Hafiz says that friendships are fragile things and require as much care in
handling as any other fragile and precious thing. A friend is one in whose understanding and
virtue we can equally confide. That is a choice friend who conceals our faults from the view of
others, and discovers them to our own. In short, friendship is the privilege of private men, for
wretched greatness knows no blessing so substantial.)
My riches, my heart and my soul are all sacrificed unto the beloved master, who is all eyes for
the obligations of companionship, love and affection and loyalty and faith (i.e. there is nothing so
great that I hesitate to do it for my beloved master, and nothing so small that I will disdain to do
it for him).
O my heart! So live your life that if your feet slip (into error or lapse), the angel (i.e. your
beloved master), by both of his hands, pray in order to save you.
He (i.e. my steadfastness) did not watch out my heart (i.e. my steadfastness was not careful or on
its guard against the miscreance of, my heart), but there is no occasion for worry, for what
(burden) can the hand of the bondsman lift? It is only the master (Khuda) who is the real watch
and ward.
O zephyr! If you notice my heart sitting (cosily) in the locks of his hair, advise it softly to be all
eyes for that (magnificent spot, and behave reverentially and with discernment as to what is
proper and what is improper, i.e. don’t take liberties with him).
O master! Where is the dust and dirt of your path so that Hafiz may keep a close watch on it in
the remembrance of the morning breeze that raised it (i.e. the scattered glimpses that I have of
your glorious visage in my morning meditation, I would love to cherish with nostalgia).
LYRIC 296 (9 VERSES)
1-9, O lovely master! If your steps happen to fall on my place the huma of lofty propitiousness
would fall in my trap (i.e. I will deem it to be highly auspicious for me if you pass through my
place).
If even the reflection of your (glorious) countenance were to fall in my cup (heart) in the wise of
a bubble, exultantly I will throw up my cup in the air (i.e. I will deem it to be a feather in my cap,
an achievement to be proud of).
O master! In as much as even the air cannot find the way to your portals, then what chance can
our salaam’s boldness have to find a place there? When my soul became fascinated with your
lips, I had thought that possibly a drop of your limpid water (of life) may trickle into my gullet.
The image of your locks of hair warned me: “Don’t make your soul as a medium contrived to
reach his locks, for into our trap many a prey like this fall (and therefore, you will be one out of
so many other preys).”
O seeker! When even the kings (sages and savants) have no chance of kissing the dust of his
door, what attention can we expect from him to make him reply to our salaam?

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But then, don’t go away from this door in despair; devise a divination; it is on the cards that the
dice of good luck may appear in my name.
The night during which the moon of my ardent desire (my beloved master) rises from the
horizons (i.e. the night during which I could have a glimpse of the inner form of my beloved
master), it is possible that the reflection of some (Divine) light may fall on my top storey (i.e. I
may have a glimpse of the topmost spiritual region the Hoot).
The moment Hafiz talks about the (mysteries) of the dust of your lane, the (refreshing) breeze
from the rose-garden of spirit informs my heart and soul.
LYRIC 297 (7 VERSES)
1-7. Whosoever becomes crazy of the rows of hair on your (radiant) face, he could never step out
of that circular ring, so long as he lives.
When on the Day of Resurrection I lift my head out of the dust of the grave, the scar (left by the
wound) of your love would solve the mystery of the nukta-i-sveda (i.e. it will become known that
anyone who fell in love with you was able to penetrate into the nukta-i-sveda, the portal to the
Divine abode).
May the long shadow of the grief caused by my love for your locks be ever on my head, for it is
in this shade that the heart of the impassioned lover becomes tranquil.
O my beloved master! Like my heart (which has gone out of me, on to you) come out of the veil
for a while and come inside of me, for there would be ho meeting a second time (because I
would soon give up the ghost).
O precious pearl! How long would you deem it permissible that in the grief caused by peoples
love for you, their eyes should become a whole sea of tears?
O lovely master! From every edge (eyelid) of the hair of my eyelashes, waters (tears) are
flowing; come on, if you have a mind to saunter along the bank of a river (of tears) and a desire
to witness the theatre (tamasha).
It is part of your preening that your eyes do not become favourably inclined towards Hafiz;
hauteur is one of the traits of narcissus poeticus (nargis-i-shehla, whose yellow, orange or white
flowers have a crown surrounded by spreading segments which have a numbing effect on the
viewer).
LYRIC 298 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O master! In no case will my love for you be wiped out (eradicated) from the tablet of my
heart and soul; that sauntering, cypress-like (beloved whose memory has been rubbed on tome
through close contact) would never be rubbed of my memory.
My love for you is so firmly implanted (literally, has made a place) in my heart and soul that if
my head (life) goes away (passes away), your love would never depart from my spirit.
The image of the (beauteous, fascinating) countenance would not go away from my overwrought
brain (full of nervous tension), on account of the (tension caused by) faithlessness (jafa) of the

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sphere (falak, the wheel of Time) and the anguish (caused by the fluctuations and vicissitudes) of
the turning earth i.e. Space (closed as I am in the constricted casket of time and space), the only
ray of hope is your image.
The weight of your grief (i.e. the grief caused by my love for you and by separation from you)
that is weighing my miserable heart down (pressing it down as if by weight), will never be lifted
from my heart, even if my heart leaves me (i.e. collapses).
O master! My heart became riveted with your locks of hair (your Divine mystique) in the pre-
eternal; it will never avert from you till eternity and will not budge (however slightly) from the
plighted word (of alas).
O lovely master! If my heart runs after the beauteous (saints), it is helpless, for it is afflicted with
pain, and what else will it do if it does not trail behind the cure.
Anyone who wishes that he may not become distraught like Hafiz, he is advised not to lose his
heart to the beauteous (saints), and not to chase them [cf. Kabir : “main jo aisa jaanti, preet kiye
dukh hoye ; magar dhindora peet ti, preet na karyo koye-If I had known that falling in love head
over heels means (unlimited, unending) anguish, I would have proclaimed on the beat of drum,
all over the city, exhorting people not to indulge in love.
LYRIC 299 (8 VERSES)
1-8. My temptation for the zephyr of springtide (i.e. for the Divine mysteries revealed by the
perfect master who has become manifest) carried me off towards the desert (ruination, i.e.
destroyed my fleshly world); the wind (i.e. your Divine impulse) brought your (bewitching)
scent but it carried away my tranquility. O master! Your (fascinating) eye has not carried my
broken, frail] and sickly heart alone; it carried off the track everyone who had had a heart (in the
tight place, a heart which had the inborn capacity to respond to the call of your love). O my
master! Yesterday when my (gnostic) cup (my heart) contacted your lips (i.e. heard your
mystical discourses), it (my as heart) claimed that it stood absolved (of all sins), so much so that
it carried off (ruined) the reputation and sheen of the lips of those (charlatans) who claimed that
they were also capable of conferring _ absolution (forgiveness of all sins). The coyish look of
that Turko-man with bow-like eyebrows (the perfect master) has waylaid me (looted me); all my
belongings (wits) have been pillaged by that lofty and straight, cypress-like infidel (the master
who, as the sovereign of the cosmos, is his own law and is not bound by any scripture, ritual or
belief, and so the conventionalists and conformists dub him as an infidel). O master! See how my
tears have melted away your stony- heart and have brought it my way! Why not? The flood can
sweep a stone (lying outside) into the river. From my eyes, tears, white as silver, trickled and
they relieved me (robbed me) of the liveliness of my face (made me pallid as the lovers are), but
this did not blacken my face; on the contrary, every drop of tear that came out and looted the
sheen of my face, conferred on it gold (light) upon gold (light; cf. the holy Koran, XXIV, 35 :
“Light upon light, God guideth into His light whom He will”). Yesterday, O master, the hand of
my quest (for you) knitted the chain (strategic fortification) of my longing (shauq) for you; the
arrays of my anguish (caused by my love for you) felted the feet (knocked down) of the armed
forces of my (dianoetic) intellect and (discursive) reason. In. respect of mellifluous melodies,
don’t enter into a discussion before Hafiz about bulbul (the lover of the rose), for Hafiz, is a
parrot (alter ego, or second self of the rose, the beloved master) and before him, the warbling of
bulbul cuts no ice.
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LYRIC 300 (6 VERSES)
1-6. If a person, without splitting hairs, were to accept an hair (jot) of my counsel, he would, like
me, become an hair-ring (thrall) of the locks of your hair. O master! If an innocent heart (i.e.
simple- hearted) were to behold your narrow (delicate, fine) mouth, in remembrance of your
(sweet) lips he would quaff the (gnostic) wine as if it is sherbet (i.e. he would accept the hard
spiritual discipline of gnosis as sweet sherbet). Last night, my heart reached you and sat shoulder
to shoulder (i.e. rubbed shoulders) with you; today, he has the nostalgia (yearning for the return
of the last night’s events) and wishes to give away his life in the fire of that yearning. O lovely
master! While in the garden, go round. the rose, narcissus and hyacinth (the sweetly, quiet,
fragrant gnostics, the alert and watchful devotees, and the expansive, extrospective seekers), so
that your beauty may silence the (spiritual) eloquence of all of them. He (the beloved master) is
wreathing, coiling and curling his locks of hair it order that (in those coils, folds and curbs) he
may capture the heart of his infatuated lovers. Although this wretched Hafiz, out of the pangs of-
separation from you, makes a hundred submissions (literally, petitions for mercy), when he
beholds your (generous, glorious) countenance, he forgets everything.
LYRIC 301 (9 VERSES)
1-9. O master! Remember that from behind the curtains, your gaze was fastened on me; the
amount of your jointure (i.e. your generosity) was looming large on my face.
Bear in mind that when your angry looks were killing me, your sweet lips (your sweet,
tranquillizing discourses) displayed the healing touch of Jesus.
Recall that when my moon (beloved master) would put on the cap edge-ways (in ornamental
style) he looked in the saddle of the new moon set on traversing the entire world (i.e. he looked
as if he was face to face with the new moon that the prophet cleft in twain when he penetrated
the nukta-i-sveda).
Recollect that when your (enthralling) visage would ignite the candle of (Divine) ecstasy, then
this consumed heart (consumed in the fire of love for you) was its indiscreet (bold and fearless)
moth.
Bring back to your consciousness that when your agate-like cup (face) would wear a smile, there
were very many tete-a-tete between me and your lips.
Remember that in that assembly (mehfil) of etiquette and culture, that which laughed himself
sick was none other than the (gnostic) wine (despite all the restraints imposed by reverence for
you, your divinity was tickling everyone’s fancy).
Recollect that after quaffing the morning (gnostic) wine (i.e. after going through the practices of
Sultan-al-Azkar) when me met in the company of love (congregation), there was none present
save me and the beloved (master), and God was with us both (i.e. I and the master united
together under the benign supervision of God).
Recall that only I was (spiritually) inebriated and a companion of the (gnostic) tavern
(congregation); that (gnostic) wine which here in my company is so little now, was available in
much abundance then, in that congregation.

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O master! Remember that every lyric of un- pierced (unfinished) pearls composed by Hafiz used
to be rectified and finished under your correction.
LYRIC 302 (9 VERSES)
1-9. O master! Remember that the destination of my journey was your lane; my eyes obtained
the perception from the dust of your door, Straightaway, like the intercommunication between
the rose (heart) and the hyacinth (tongue), I had that on my tongue that was there in your heart
(i.e. just as the hyacinth articulates only that which is in the heart of the rose, I would say
precisely that which your heart desired; I was your alter ego).
When the heart (that was crazy of you) used to seek the cash of core or meaning (of anything
mysterious, i.e. when my heart used to take advice about a mystery) from the old personage of
intellect, it was ardent passion of love that would reveal the mystery which that old personage
found it difficult to unravel.
(But now,) woe betide the torment and torture which afflicts me in this (corporeal) prison (far
away from my beloved master), and blessed was the time of that rapturous delight and those
rarities which were available in that place (the congregation of the beloved master).
It was my heart’s resolve that in no case would I live without the beloved master; but what shall I
say now, for all my heart’s resolution came a cropper.
Last night, in memory of my friends and beloved master, I went to the (gnostic) tavern (master’s
congregation); there I saw the pitcher of (gnostic) wine (empty of wine); at this sight, my heart
became blood-soaked (i.e. I shed tears of blood at the agony of my master and his Elect having
gone away), and my feet became embroiled in mud (i.e. I went down in the dumps).
I wandered a good deal, here and there, in order to enquire about the cause of why this pain of
separation has been inflicted on me; but the (wise) mufti of (dianoetic) intellect in this matter
showed up (was revealed) as witless (senseless and stupid).
It is true that the ring carrying the beryl (green gem, feroza) from the mine of Bu Ishaqi, used to
shine very brilliantly (allusion to a sage who flashes for a while and then fades away) but it was a
transitory exaltation.
O Hafiz! Have you noticed the guffaw of that superciliously sauntering partridge (the charlatan,
the fake master, imposter) who was oblivious of the claws of the hawk of death (i.e. Azrael)?
LYRIC 303 (8 VERSES)
1-8. I am not witnessing camaraderie in anyone; what has happened to comrades? Friendliness
seems to have vanished; what has happened to friends?
The Water of Life (pure gnosis) has become turbid (dull, in turmoil and confounded); where is
khidr (the eternal master) of propitious feet? From the bough of the rose tree (advanced,
splendid, fragrant gnostic) blood has trickled; what happened to the zephyr of springtide (Divine
impulse of the master)?
A hundred thousand roses (spiritual strivers) bloomed and yet no fowl (loving saints) chuckled;
what has come to pass to the bulbuls and what has happened to nightingales (that warble in the

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night, i.e. those gnostics, the perfect master’s lovers, who hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi in their nightly
meditation)?
Years have gone by and from the mine of amiableness (murravat) no ruby (saviour and sage) has
come out what has happened to the heat of the sun (penances) and the exertions of wind and rain
(dedication, devout worship or bhakti)?
Venus does not take up its musical instrument, as much as to suggest that possibly its sarangi has
burnt out (i.e. nobody hears the Saut-i-Sarmadi and the sound of sarangi in Hahoot); nobody
longs for (gnostic) inebriation; what has happened to the topers of gnostic wine?
Nobody now talks of any comrade living up to the obligation of camaraderie; what has befallen
the discerners of the Truth and of its obligations, and the comrades? Everyone has cast aside the
ball of generosity and spiritual excellence (karamat) and nobody turns his face towards the
maidan (of gnosis); what has happened to the (gnostic) hussars?
O Hafiz! Nobody knows the mysteries of the exalted Lord, and hold your tongue! Whom are you
asking to explain what has happened to the vicissitudes wrought by the Wheel of Time? [Refer to
Iqbal : ‘‘na wo ishq mein raheen garmiyan, na wo husn mein raheen shokhiyan ; na wo ghaznavi
mein tadap rahi, na wo khum hai zulf-i-ayaz mein—Neither there is that former zap and pep in
love, nor that Coyness or sauciness in beauty; neither there is that writhing in ghaznavi (Mahmud
Ghaznavi), nor that fold in the locks of Ayaz.” The reader will read this whole lyric of Iqbal with
immense profit, for it is so much akin to the spirit of Hafiz.)

LYRIC 304 (8 VERSES)

1-8. Yesterday morning, I had a chance to quaff one or two cups (of gnostic wine, i.e. I had
experienced one or two divine mysteries in the course of my gnostic contemplation); from the
lips of the cupbearer (the beloved master), (gnostic) wine trickled into my mouth (i.e. the Divine
impulse of my beloved master had direct communication with my soul).
Impelled by ecstasy, I wanted to remarry the beloved of my youth (i.e. once again [wanted to
embrace my beloved master), but then divorce came in the way (i.e. my master had departed).
I had contrived the image that 1 would kiss his intoxicated eye, but my stamina and perseverance
had become severed from the bent of his eyebrow (i.e. in my old age, when my beloved master
was no more, I was toying with the idea of loving my master once again but both because of my
declining strength and his having departed, it remained only an imaginary dalliance).
O cup- bearer (beloved master)! Give me cup after cup of (gnostic) wine (ceaselessly), for while
sauntering on the way to gnosis, whosoever did not conduct himself like an impassioned, crazy
lover he became inflicted in hypocrisy.
O oneiromancer! Give a delightful divination by your interpretation of my dream, for last night,
in the sweet sleep (sweet meditation in the state of sushupati) of small hours, the sun was in my
company (which would be interpreted as the glad tidings of the arrival of the beloved master).
On the various stations (of gnosis), wherever I strolled, I discovered that tranquility and the game
of amorous looks had become separated (divorced) from each other (i.e. one who became

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engaged in the game of impassioned love for the perfect master lost his rest and tranquility, for
all the time he was afflicted either with pain of separation or with the stern eye of the master
insisting on hard spiritual discipline).
By the grace of God, Yahiya Nusrat-al-Deen became the ruler of Shiraz; had it not been so, the
affairs of the state, both secular and spiritual, would have been in disarray, devoid of law and
order and peace.
When Hafiz was composing this lyric out of his scattered emotions, the winged bird of his
contemplation was entangled in the snare of longing for the beloved (master).
LYRIC 305 (9 VERSES)
1-9. O master! Remember that at the time of your departure, you didn’t so much as remember me
and didn’t cheer my anguished heart by bidding farewell.
That (spiritually) youthful man (the beloved muster) who always struck the note of doing good to
his lovers and accepting them as his own, I don’t know why he did not emancipate this old
bondsman of his (from grief, agony and worry).
On this mountain (of love), my heart, in the hope of visibly affecting you by its resonance,
moaned and groaned in a way in which even Farhaad never lamented (in the remembrance of
Sheerin).
Every night I am condemned to wash my clothes in the water of my own blood, for the Wheel of
Time did not show me the way towards the flag of justice (i.e. the portals of my master where his
lovers assemble imploring mercy and justice from him).
O master! Since the day you have withdrawn your shadow (of protection) from the orchard (the
gnostic congregation), the morning fowl (the gnostics who practise Sultan-al- Azkar in the small
hours) did not make or inhabit the nest in the folds of the hair of balsam poplar (shamshaad or
the advanced gnostic).
The morning breeze would be better advised if she learns the art of blowing speedily from you,
O lovely (master), for even the wind never blew so fast and speedily as you ran away (leaving us
orphans).
The pen of the masseur of the Divine craft does not make out any mark for the fulfillment of
ardent desire of anyone who did not faithfully acknowledge that divinely gifted beauty (of the
perfect master).
O minstrel! Change the note and strike the note of Iraq (amoroso), for my beloved master has
departed on this note (of love) and did not even so much as remember me.
The sonorous melody of Hafiz is from the amoroso (Iraqi) for who is there who after hearing it
did not cry for relief (from the agony caused by separation from the beloved)?
LYRIC 306 (5 VERSES)

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1-5: When my beloved master holds the (gnostic) cup in his hand (i.e. when my master holds
forth, speaking at length, of gnosis), the bazaar (crowd) of (lifeless) idols (charlatans) breaks
down (ceases to function and becomes ineffective).
Like a fish, I am fallen into the sea (of Divinity) so that my beloved (master) may catch and hold
me on the hook.
In utter humility and abaseness I am grovelling (face downwards) at his feet: will it be possible
for him to hold my hand (and lift-me)?
Whosoever confronted his (magnetic) eye, he blurted out: Where is the Superintendent of Public
Morals (Mahatsib) who can hold this ecstatic and bring him to bay?’’
Anyone who has filled a cup with the (gnostic) wine of Alast, has a cheerful heart like Hafiz.
Alast is the pre-eternal contract. When God asked the children of Adam, “Am I not your Lord?"
They replied, “Yea, Verily. We testify." That was lest you should say at the Day of Resurrection,
“Lo! Of this we were unaware.” (Koran, VII, 172).
LYRIC 307 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O you! The savour of the honey of your ruby-like lips (i.e. the flavour of your sweet
gnostic discourses) is cherished as delicious by my throat; the sweet halva, in the mouth of the
hungry; always tastes delectable (i.e. those who have an appetite for fleshly viands find halva as
delectable, but those who have an appetite for gnostic mysteries find your discourses sweet as
honey). In the narrow, delicate mouth of the beloved master, his teeth look enticing, even as in
the narrow mouth of the casket, the pearls of Aden look attractive. Whatever honey and candy
(sweet gnostic mysteries) there are in the bazaar of this world, they are sweet only on account of
his (sweet discourses), this is: the sweet’ word in my mouth (i.e. I articulate this sweet secret of
my beloved master; cf. Sar Bachan, Prose, Part Il, op. cite, para 179). From the ambergris of
your locks, a fraction is received by our brain; it is like the musk of Khotan which is so
delectable to - the brain. In the garden of our eyes (where the image of your rose-like face is
firmly implanted), by virtue of the white and red tears, that joy is available which one obtains by
the sight of rose and Catalonian jasmine in the garden. If the palate of the vulgar obtain delicious
flavour from the peach (bahee), for the one afflicted by love the apple of the chin of the beloved
is delightful. To the heart of Hafiz, the impassioned love for your (delightful) cheeks is the best
of all, for to the spirit of bulbul the fragrance of the rose-garden is most fascinating.
LYRIC 308 (7 VERSES)
1-7. O you master! The words fallen from your lips sound so delicious to the palate of my
spirit; to talk about your lips (i.e. the pearls of wisdom that fall from your lips) is delectable in
the mouth as the savour of sugar. Your teeth are like drops of milk, while your lips are sugar
itself; that makes the milk mixed with sugar “so palatable. The blood of my heart (shed in
remembrance of you) and the kebab of my liver (i.e. my liver burnt in the fire of your love) are
both for you, O lovely master! The red wine (of the blood of my heart, red as syringa persica)
and the kebab of my liver when taken together become very palatable. (Look at this alchemy!)
When I talked about your grace, my words became sonorous (majestic, high flown and
grandiloquent) ; when I dealt with the quality (haecceity) of your lips (your discourses), my
elucidation became pleasantly luciferous (giving light). My heart ardently desired the shaft

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(naavik of your love), because for huma, as compared to other viands, bones are delicious (i.e.
my heart sought to be pierced by the missiles of your love which is like huma, the shadow of
which would mean spiritual crown for my head). Since he (my master) has inside of him the
syrup -and flavour (chuashni) of the art of ravishment of heart, a word about him that passes
through my tongue tastes delicious. O-comrade! Hafiz, with the syrup of his soul, often cooked
halva in the ardent desire for his lips (i.e. Hafiz often cooked up a story about his discourses) but
it did not turn out to be as delectable (as his discourses were).
LYRIC 309 (5 VERSES)
1-5: O my heart! Write to him (to the beloved’ master), fetch the paper and send the letter
to that beauteous (master). O zephyr! Take this letter to that coy, saucy beloved master a
message scribbled on paper from his restless lover. (Of course, I know for a fact that) he will
never write in reply, even if I write to him. a thousand letters. Since the day when I inscribed
your name (allusion to the Great Name revealed by the perfect master) on this letter, it remained
permanently fixed on the page of Time. O beloved master! Do kindly write a letter to your
broken-hearted Hafiz.
LYRIC 310 (13 VERSES)
1-6. O parrot (my heart that poured out in the letter), the discloser (revealer) of the mysteries! (A
lover’s letter is called a parrot for it just repeats the words that are inspired by his perfect master;
he has no will of his own; he is the alter ego of his master; all his actions and utterances are
divinely inspired by his perfect master). May your beak be never empty of sugar (i.e. may you
pour out sweet compliments at the gnostic discourses of the master forever).
May your head be ever lively (i.e. may you be head and shoulders above all the lovers; may you
ever hold up your head, keep it, and keep it above water; may you ever make head, and hit the
headlines; may you be the headman; may you take on the charlatans and the pharisaics in your
usual head-on fashion, and so on); may your heart be ever cheerful, for you have elicited a good
reaction in the letter of my beloved.
O my master! You have spoken secretly to my rivals; for the sake of the Lord, lift the curtain of
secrecy from the face of this puzzle.
O lovely cupbearer! From your (gnostic) chalice, sprinkle some rose-water (Water of Life) on
my mouth, for while you are absolutely awake (i.e. a perfect man, pooran purush, transcendental
and complete in every respect), 1 am sleep- sodden (somnolent and drowsy, drained in ignorance
or nescience).
What a (breathtaking) melody it was that th minstrel sang on the note struck (from the Invisible,
Saut-i-Sarmadi), so that those who were in their senses and those who were beside themselves
are jointly dancing.
By the opium (spiritual, mysterious tranquillizer) that the cupbearer (the gnostic wine-bibber)
mixed in the (gnostic) wine, his (spiritual) adherents would neither be able to keep their heads,
nor preserve their turbans (i.e. they will become confounded and with their caps in their hand,
mumble as when asking a favour).

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7-13. Although (discursive) reason is the cash (capital) of the Creation, what weight does it carry
before the ardent passion of love which is the elixir (alchemy that transmutes every base metal
into gold).
The saints do not allow Water of Life to be delivered to Alexander (who ever boasted of his
greatness and his world-wide con- quests), for this attainment does not result from power and
pelf. [There is the story which shows how Diogenes (412-323 BC) shamed Alexander. When the
latter went to see him, he boastfully introduced himself, “I am Alexander, surnamed the Great!”,
to which the sage replied, and I am Diogenes, surnamed the Dog!’’ As the poet put it: “Tahee
dastaan-i-gismet raa, che sood uz rehbar-i-kamil; ke khidr uz aab-i-haivaan, tishna mee aarad
Sikandar raa—To those that are empty-handed, denuded of good luck, what gain will accrue
from the perfect guide, for khidr (the perennial master) brought back Alexander thirsty for the
Water of Life.]
Now, hear the account of the state of those afflicted by the pain (of love); they speak very little
but they speak meaningfully.
O comrade! Don’t ever reveal the secrets of gnostic ecstasy to those who outwardly appear to be
devout but in secrecy practise something different; they are like the lifeless portraits hung on the
walls, and from them don’t enquire about the words and deeds of the gnostics.
The china idol (made of dead, gross clay, without a spirit) is the enemy of our faith and fortune
(deen-o-maa); O Lord, keep a watchful eye on my faith and heart!
O worldly kings! What is the sense in making an exhibition of your regal insignia before the
(gnostic) bondsman? O Lord! Watch out and save them from calamities.
By the grace and blessings of the perfect master of the exaltation of Mansoor (who like a king
amongst saints affirmed Anal Haq), in composing these verses, Hafiz became the standard-bearer
in the realm of poesy (leader of the gnostic cause).
LYRIC 31 I (7 VERSES)

1-7. O wind with the fragrance of musk! Pass through the side of that, beauteous master;
untie the knots of his locks (his Divine mysteries) and fetch to me some of his fragrance. Speak
to him, saying: “O my unkind moon! Come, for your lovers are wasting (dying) in your
expectation (waiting for you).” O master! We have lost our heart to you and in return for our life
we have purchased your love; as it is, do not deem it permissible inflict on us the inequity and
injustice of your separation from us. In the wise of the Wheel of Time, you too have turned
a blind eye to this thrall of yours (forgotten, overlooked and ignored him deliberately); do lend
an ear to the entreaty of your faithful and loyal comrade (i.e. give me favourable attention
and heed my plight). O my heart! put up with (endure) separation (from the beloved master) and
persevere steadfastly ; O my eyes, on account of separation from him, don’t shed more blood
(tears of blood) ! Of course, don’t remove the image of the beloved master from your sight (for
this is something in our control) while I have no discretion in the matter of having union with
him. O Hafiz! How long will you remain burdened with the grief about your not having the
wealth and riches of this world ? Don’t grieve any more, for this (fleshly) world is not lasting.

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LYRIC 312 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O my perfect master! You, who has carried off the ball of beauty (i.e. carried the day) in
contest against all the beauteous (saints and sages of the world), in respect of righteousness and
strai-ghtforwardness, your stature is like the straight cypress on the bank of the (gnostic) water-
stream. The truth of the matter is that the being (wajood) of the print and sign of your mouth is
so fancifully vague (recondite and subtle) that it is neither evanescent, nor evident (i.e. to your
lovers it is evident, but to the strangers it is evanescent). I have entrusted my heart into the hands
or the row of hair on your face (your outer beauteous figure), to your locks (your inner form
which is as majestic as it is mysterious), and to your beauty spot (which is our beacon light) —let
us see what affliction my wounded heart receives at the hands or everyone of these three. If my
beloved (master) is with me, let there be a thousand foes (my evil propensities and outer
opponents) for [ know how to put up a fight, and I don't fight shy of combat in the battlefield.
Since the day my impassioned love for you has been firmly installed in the serai of my heart, if I
ever step out or this door, I come back to it, in a state of restlessness. If in its encounter with your
stature, a cypress (i.e. a pretentious grand panjandrum) were to raise his head (act
contumaciously), don't worry at all, for once who is a hair-splitter and talks long-windedly,
carries no conviction. Now that Hafiz, in his desire to win you over, has put everything at stake,
like the chessmen, his heart has become embroiled in the six-door checkmate on account of the
grief caused by his separation from you (i.e. I have become confined within the constriction of
the six physical ganglions, and my soul has no escape from this six-door prison of corporeal
body except through your grace, O master chess-player ! Your grace alone can take me through
the nukta-i-sveda, the sixth gate or the sixth ganglion; for Shashdara, see my note in Mathnawi
Rumi, Volume II, Verse 2110, p. 240, MG Publishers, Agra, 1995).

LYRIC 313 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O you master by the light of whose countenance the bed of anemone of life is lively and
refreshed! Come back, for without your rose-like face, the springtide of my life is wasted
(destroyed).

If from my eyes tears flow like rain, it is fit and proper, for in my grief (caused by my separation
from you), the span of my life has passed away like a flash of lightning (allusion to the
phenomenon of cloud-burst after lightning and thunder).

I am alive without life (liveliness)and you need not wonder at this, for who ever counts the
(torturous)period of separation (from one's beloved master) as part of (even flow of) life.

One whose (ship of) life is fastened to the even keel of the point of your mouth (i.e. your
spiritual discourses), what fear can he have from the sea of self-effacement (fana, for that even
keel of your mouth extends into the water of the sea to provide lateral stability).

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The vast array of the vicissitudes of time (i.e. secondary causes) is lying in ambush on all sides,
and it is for this reason that the cavalier (horseman) of life is on a long rein so that the horse of
life is running fast, unconstrained.

O seeker! In one or two breaths (moments) that are available to you, when the fortune of having
a glimpse of the beloved master is possible, fulfill your heart's desire for this business of life is
not certain (and it can be wound up at any moment).

How long will you remain drowned in your (imaginary) ecstasy of the morning drink (your
imaginary meditation) and in the sweet slumber of small hours (fake, showy contemplation)? O
yes! Stir your stumps (i.e. move and become active), for you can place no reliance on the) length
of your lifespan.

Yesterday (when) he (my beloved master was passing (moving past me), he did not so much as
look at me; my heart (which helplessly saw him passing by) was without any remedy, for by the
passage of years it had made no (spiritual) gain.

O Hafiz! Compose' your verses, for on the leaf of this (fleeting) realm (jahan), the print of your
pen (i.e. your verses) would remain as a memento (souvenir) of your life.

LYRIC 314 (11 VERSES)

I-II. O zephyr! Fetch to me a bit of exhilarating fragrance (nikhate) from the dust of the
door of my beloved (master); remove my heart's suffering and sorrow and deliver to me the glad
tidings from my beloved master. Speak to me of some soul-lifting recondite (gnostic) point from
the mouth (discourses) of my beloved (master) ; from realm (alam) of (Divine) mysteries, get to
me a delightful message from the beloved (master). O zephyr! Fetch to me a bit of the fragrance
of my beloved master's breath (i.e. let me have some inkling of the master's Divine impulse), so
that I may scent (refresh) my mind with the grace of his breath (Divine impulse).I adjure you in
the name of your faithfulness and request you to fetch to me the dust (khaak) of the way of that
darling beloved of mine (i.e. get to me at least some impressions of his Divinity), but undiluted
by the rubbish (ghuhbar)' that is thrown up by those alien to him (i.e. I am not interested in the
frivolous, trivial comments from those who are alien to my beloved master, for they are
chatterboxes and what they talk is rubbish and trash). A whole age has passed and my heart has
not seen the face of its (spiritual) objective (i.e. for ages I am remote from my beloved master,
my objective); O cupbearer (beloved master), show me that cup (heart) which acts like a mirror
(in which I can see the reflection of your inner form and the countenance of the almighty Lord).
O zephyr ! I shed tears of blood at the (spiritual) blindness of my rivals (who miserably fail to
perceive the spiritual in order to cure their majesty and grandeur of my beloved master);
blindfold eyes and for the relief of my blood shedding eyes, fetch to me the dust of the way of
my beloved (master, that may lift the bandage of ignorance from their eyes and enable them to
perceive his Divinity; that would save me from grief which makes me shed tears of blood at their
folly and blindness). O zephyr! My crazy heart cannot refrain from getting tethered to him by his

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chain ; out of the coil of his lock, do fetch a smart (neat, vigorous and brisk) ring. Infirmity
(khaami) and simple-mindedness are not the ways of those lovers who put their life at stake in
the game of love ; fetch to me some message from that astute (ayyar) heart-ravisher (so that I
may know where I stand in my love garhe). O fowl of the garden (gnostic seeker) ! In gratitude
for your being in a state of rapture, for the captives of the cage (of love) do bring some message
from the rose- bed (the master's congregation). From the (bitter) endurance of my living without
him, the palate of my\spirit has become bitter; get to me some stimulant (ishwa) from his sweet
lips from which sugar pours out (some of the sweet discourses from which gnosis rains). Of what
worth is this jacket of Hafiz? Dye it in (gnostic) wine, and then bring Hafiz, the inebriated and
drunk (with gnostic wine), in the middle of the bazaar (for everyone to see).

LYRIC 315 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O zephyr! Fetch to me a little fragrance from the lane of such-and-such; on account of
affliction (of love) I have become attenuated and etiolated; get me some relief for my sickly soul
(from my beloved master).

Apply elixir (al iksir, a liquid containing a medicinal drug with syrup, glycerine and alcohol - all
gnostic ingredients) of fulfillment of desire to my heart which has not attained to its ardent
desire yet (be-haasil); so to say, bring to me at least a token from the dust of the door of my
beloved (master).

In the ambuscade of his looks, I am at war with my own heart (i.e. while my heart wants to be
pierced by the arrow of his amorous, coy looks, I want to save myself from its fatal onslaught);
as it is, please bring to me his eyebrows, the shaft of his saucy arrow, and his bow to me (i.e. ask
my master to look me up and make personal contact with me).

I have become (not grown) old by the strain of my long (gnostic) travel, the fire of separation
(from him) and the agony of my heart's affliction; fetch to me a cup of (gnostic) wine from the
hands of my youthful (lively, vivacious, gamely) master (so that I may become spiritually
resuscitated).

Let even those who are deniers (of my beloved master) savour two or three cups of this (gnostic)
wine (i.e. let them have a glimpse of the Divine mysteries of my spell-casting beloved); and if
they don't take it, then promptly and straightaway bring them to me.

O cupbearer (perfect gnostic master! Do not postpone today's rapturous delight for tomorrow
(i.e. do it here and now, and if you cannot do so, then, O zephyr) from the court or the Divine
dispensation (diwan-i-qaza) fetch to me letters of credential accrediting me to the court of
tranquility (i.e. bring some delightful message from my master, that should act as a tranquillizer
for my restless heart).

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My heart had come out of the veil of secrecy when yesterday Hafiz (i.e. I) said: "O zephyr! Fetch
to me the fragrance from the lane of such-and-such."

LYRIC 316 (6 VERSES)

1-6. O you, in the hope of union with whom, the entire business of life is entrusted! You
are my life and may grow old in the (warm) embrace of (a vigorous, lively, gnostic) life (i.e. may
you for long Continue to guide our gnostic destiny). O my dear life (sweet-heart)! For a while
become my close companion (sharing my breath); in order that by the (spiritual) exaltation of
your union (with me) the mission of my, life may come good (succeed). O lovely master! Your
lovers 'know 'it for a fact that that fragment of life which passes away without your company is
not counted as part of active life and cannot be reckoned in it by any means or manner. You are
my life, O master, although life itself is unfaithful; may a thousand precious dear lives be offered
as oblation to your life. The way my life is passing out in separation from .you (i.e. the way you
are passing me over, ignoring me) I have become weary of passing my life. When I have no free
will (control) over the axis of life, what reliance can Hafiz place on the keel of the ship of life.

LYRIC 317 (5 VERSES)

1-5. After witnessing the play of me as the (gnostic) tosspot and you as the (gnostic)
distiller, nobody would ever come across a (gnostic) bibber like me and a (gnostic) ferment like
you, I have such a cup-bearer (beloved master) that the more we quaff the (gnostic) wine from
his hands, the more we repeat "one more" (i.e. the more we hear his spiritually stimulating
discourses, the more we demand "encore"). As gnostics, we sell off our woollen khirqa (mantle)
(as the relics of our dead past, an unprofitable item, at a throwaway price), but we never sell
asceticism; we put on a different sort of girdle (of stiff gnostic discipline that encircles us,
zunnar) made out of his locks of hair (i.e. our master's Divine mystery which is a very hard task
master). People say that whosoever becomes an impassioned lover (crazy of and infatuated with
the beloved master), he drinks the blood of his own heart (i.e. he is always in sorrow and
suffering, agony and anguish); this is true of us; and as it is, we know of no other business than
the business of love-knot (lovership, aashiqi). O dealer in (gnostic) wine (beloved master)!
Preserve the honour of the turban of Hafiz for he (poor Hafiz) has no other turban save this time
worn (trite and tattered) turban [i.e. O master! My turban (ego) is gone; it is tattered, in a
shambles ; what "I" am is therefore "you" and "you" alone ; in honouring me, you will be
honouring yourself, which is fit and proper].

LYRIC 318 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O pharisaical abstinent! The moth never abstains from the light (of the candle); and
if it does resolve to keep off it, it gets burnt (in love for it) from afar. Everyone (in the world) is a
captive or his own desire (i.e. desirousness is pandemic); (what if) the man of discernment

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becomes a captive of the charms of the countenance of his own cynosure (manzoor) (?) The Day
of Resurrection would also be-the Day of Judgment— the Day of Reckoning ; on that Day we
would be resurrected by reciting the Great Name as revealed by our beloved (master); other
(spirit) entities would be revived by the trumpet (sounded by Israfil). O lovely (master)! When
you would be in paradise, nobody, just none, would so much as look at the houri (for everyone's
gaze would be fastened on your beauteous visage). We are inebriated of the rack of impassioned
love (sharaab-i-naab, ishq); we are not at all thirsty of the water of the celestial spring named
Salsabil (the Koran, LXXVI, 18), nor of the cup whereof the mixture is of water of kafur
(camphor; ibid. , 5). O beloved (master)! Be very cautious about our sighs, lest their furious fire
should incinerate the veil of the veiled (beloved master).

LYRIC 319 (5 VERSES)

1-5. When the dawn (i.e. the manifestation of the perfect master) made a firm resolve to
subjugate this (phenomenal world of mind and matter, Kal and maya), the various dimensions of
the world wereclad in brocade (i.e. all around festivities and celebrations like those of a wedding
appeared). The rise (manifestation) of the sun that illumines the world, decorated and
embellished all the (six dimensions) of the phenomenal world in the wise of the sun at its zenith
(i.e. with the advent of the perfect master, everyone everywhere began to dream of attaining to
the zenith of spiritual perfection). From which oyster has this precious pearl risen (i.e. from
which spiritual region this beloved master has manifested on the earth) so that at its
invaluableness, the dawn is offering so many shining stars (sages and savants) as oblation to
him? O seeker! Deem the company (of the perfect master) as an invaluable opportunity (literally,
leisure time or fursat) and prick up your ears to listen attentively to the account of the
vicissitudes inducted by the Wheel of Time and the fluctuations caused by the rotation and
revolution of the earth. O master! See how Hafiz lost the game of his love for you, inspite of his
firm resolution to win, for his heart became entangled in checkmate knitted by grief of his heart
caused by your separation from him, [so that he remained tangled in the six gates of his corporeal
body- anus, the reproductive organ, navel, solar plexus, throat, and the sixth ganglion, or third til,
or nukta-i-sveda (for Shashara, see my note- in Mathnawi Rumi, Volume II, Verse 2910, p. 240,
M. G. Publishers, Agra, 1995)].

LYRIC 320 (7 VERSES)

107. O my heart! Be ashamed of yourself! How long will you make my eyes shed (tears of)
blood (in love with the beloved master)? And O my eye you too sleep (to the phenomenal world,
and turn inward) so that the heart's desire (to have a glimpse of the inner form of the beloved
master) be fulfilled.

O Lord! I glean (plant) a kiss on the cheeks of my sweetheart (i .e. I glean a mystery from the
Divine mysteries scattered on the countenance of my beloved master); now you must have
noticed (i.e. become convinced) of the efficacy of the solicitations offered in the small hours.

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O seeker! How long will you glean the ear of (spiritual) corn, like the wind, (like the shallow
theoreticians whose talk is all wind) from the granary of others [i.e. how long will you act like a
glibber (vachak jnani, a theoretician who talks glibly of gnostic matters), on the basis of other's
experiences, or written word or hearsay], take the viaticum of your humble personal experience,
and sow your own seed (i.e. practise meditation yourself, so that you experience Gnosticism cf.
Sar Bachan, Prose, Part I, op. cit., para 61 ; Part II, para 51, 58, 59, 62, 63, 83, 104, 195, 206 and
234).

That providence (God who has foreseeing care and protection of His creature) has provided to
me this (phenomenal) world and uqba (paradise), so that in the beginning I have the promise of
hearing the Saut-i-Sarmadi the sound of violin (mrdang, the sound of Hahoot), and at the end I
have the locks of my beloved (master), at the Hoot (where the gnostic unit becomes absorbed in
the master, aarti).

I know that (by your own gnostic exertions) you will not be able to become the abode of
(heavenly) beauty of the sort that thc Chinese are famous for, for they make beautiful idols, but
then, (do endeavour in your own way) shake the ink from the nib of your pen (exert your
spiritual energy for ascension) and sketch some beauteous pattern (have a glimpse of some
higher region).

O my heart! If you ignore the hardship involved in keeping wide awake in the night (and devote
yourself to Sultan-al-Azkar), then the pre-dawn (Divine) impulse would bring to you the glad
tidings from the beloved master (i.e. in the pre-dawn contemplation you would have the
enthralling vision of the master's inner form).

The moon-like beloved is genuflecting and has brought ruby-like (gnostic) wine (emblem of
Lahoot), and yet, O Hafiz, you say that you have vowed (not to quaff the wine)! show some
sense of modesty and decency before the beloved (master).

LYRIC 321 (7 VERSES)

1-7. The steadfastly perseverant bulbul (lover, steadfast in his endurance of pangs of love), has
warbled from the top of the straight, tall cypress, saving: "O evil eye! Keep off the face of the
rose (i.e. the beloved master)."

O rose (i.e. O master)! In consideration of the fact that you have bloomed and blossomed (i.e.
become manifest) in response to the ardent desire of the heart of (spiritual) seekers, don't reject
with disdain your loving bulbuls who have lost their hearts to you and are infatuated with you.

If the (traditional) abstinent is expectant of celestial houris and castles, for us the (gnostic) tavern
is the (celestial) castle and this beloved (master) is the houri (of paradise).

I am not complaining against your evanescence (disappearance or absence) from us, for if there
is no evanescence (absence) presence yields no pleasure.

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If others are hale and hearty, gay and happy in their (sensual) pleasures and rapturous delight, for
us the affliction of our love for the beauteous master is the capital (fountain) of our ecstasy.

In accompaniment with violin (sound of Hahool), quaff the (gnostic) wine; don’t be angry with
anyone who asks you not to quaff the (gnostic) wine (i.e. who asks you to refrain from Sultan-al-
Azkar); tell him: "He (God) would forgive me my sins (i.e. if the practice of Sultan-al-Azkar is a
sin, God would take care of it and absolve me)."

O Hafiz! Wherefore do you complain against the pangs of separation (from your master)? After
all, in separation one finds union, as in darkness one finds light (eventually, i.e. pain of
separation ever induces union, and darkness of' night is ever followed by the light of dawn).

LYRIC 322 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O beloved master! Show me your (fascinating) countenance and ask me to extricate my
heart from my life (so that my heart may, forever become yours); ask me to set afflame my soul
with the fire of the moth in front of the candle (i.e. O master! How much I wish that my heart
may become entirely your own possession and I may burn myself out, mothwise, in the flames of
the fire of your love).

Look at my parched, thirsty lips and don't tarry in giving me water (of life); come close to the
one slain by you (in the fire of your love) and lift him from the dust (i.e. resurrect him ; you have
already killed me to flesh ; it is time that you resurrect me and spiritually vivify me).

Set the tune on the violin (i.e. make me hear the violin in Hahoot) and if there is no aloes-wood
available (to incinerate my ignorance, i.e. if you find me woodless, lacking endeavour or don't
find me out of the wood, safe from dangers or doubts), it does not matter and there is no cause
for concern ; treat my love for you as fire, take my heart as the aloes (eagle-wood) and my body
as the brazier.

O seeker! Get into the state of sama (whirling dance) and in whirling dance throw aside your
khirqa (mantle of fraud and deception) from your head, or else take to a secluded corner and put
on the mantle (dalaq) of chicanery (i.e. put on the mask of deception and masquerade as a
pharisaical Sufi).

O comrade! Tell the friend (the perfect saint) to become the beloved (master) and let both the
worlds (this phenomenal world and paradise) turn hostile; only ask the divine destiny not to turn
its back on us (i.e. abandon and refuse to help us) and let the face 01' the whole earth turn into a
battle array against us.

O master! Don't abandon the dervish even if he is destitute of gold and silver (i.e. even it' he is
without spiritual letters of credence, spiritual shine and lustre); in his affliction of your love, treat
his (white) tears as (sparkling) silver, and his (pallid, yellow) face as the yellow metal (gold).

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O beloved friend (master)! Don't be inclined to leave (us) and for a while stay up with us (to
comfort and sustain us); on the bank of the river (of our tears), look for ecstasy and hold the
(gnostic, comforting) cup in your bands.

Take it that this lire (of restlessness and anguish) in my heart is extinguished (in despair), and all
the water of my eyes (tears) has been dried up and regard my colour as pale (etiolated and
attenuated state), my lips parched (t history for Water of Life i.e. you) and my embrace as wet
(feeble and foolish, crazy of union with you).

O specious Sufi! Cast aside the blanket from your head (the cover concealing your and quaff the
rack (the clean gnostic wine siphoned off its dregs of fleshly longings, yearnings and latent
desires); lose (gamble away) the silver (in the game of love) and go and embrace the one whose
body shines as silver (pure and crystal).

O Hafiz! Decorously arrange the (gnostic) majlis (congregation) and ask the sermonizer to come
and look at my majlis, and abandon, once and for all, the head the pulpit (i.e. give up preaching
and take the practice of gnosis, Sultan-al-Azkar).

LYRIC 323 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O lovely master! Show up your (glorious) visage (to me) and erase (every trace of)
my existence (wajood) from my memory (consciousness), and proclaim that let the wind (Divine
impulse) carry away the granaries of all those burnt out (in the fire of love for you, i.e. let it be
publicly proclaimed that your lovers have incinerated their traditional practices and rituals and
all that they accumulated out of them). About those of us who have given away our heart
(lurking, sensual desires) and our eyes (love for sensual objects, appealing to the eye) to the
storm of tribulation (i.e. to gusts of our love for the master), proclaim that let the surging waves
of flood rush and sweep away our homes and hearths, lock, stock and barrel. Ah ! Who can smell
his locks of hair in the raw (naked, without clothes, in the natural, pristine glory)? O my heart
with raw desire (i.e. O my heart, the raw recruit in the game of love, ignorant, inexperienced and
immature) ! Erase this impression from your consciousness (that someone can smell his locks of
hair in the raw). O comrade! Ask my chest (to ignite such a furious fire in its folds so as) to
extinguish (make it appear as faded out or put out) the fire of the fire-temples of the Parsees
(followers of Zoroastrianism); ask my eyes to loot and plunder the honour of, and the sheen
from, the face of the river Tigris (i.e. ask my eyes to shed so much water of tears that the pride of
the majestic waters of Tigris may be humbled). On this way of gnosis, without making
endeavour, you would not reach anywhere; and if you are looking for the wages (compensation,
positive results) from your endeavour, take to obeisance to the perfect living master (vide Verse
6 of Lyric 221, Verse 7 of Lyric 264, ante). Yesterday he was saying: "I will kill you with the
long hairs of my eyelashes (i.e. I will fascinate you by the Divine mystery of my looks)." O
Lord! Expel all apprehensions and perils of committing inequity from his disposition (i.e. let him
not be dissuaded from killing me, apprehending retribution resulting from his acts of inequity

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and cruelty, and KI will be supremely happy at being killed by him). O master! For the day of
my death, plight your word (promise) to me that you will be with me for a while; this done, take
me (straightaway) to the grave, free from all care and emancipated (of all worry and concern).
Let the exalted imperium (of the perfect, gnostic master, pir-i-mughan) last in rest; the rest is
easy, inconsequential; tell the other (so-called master, the charlatan): "Begone and erase my
name from your consciousness (i.e. forget me altogether, for I have nothing to do with you)."
Henceforth, there will be my pallid face (rendered pale by the anguish of love for my love for my
perfect master), and there will be the dust of the door of my beloved master; O comrade, fetch to
me the (gnostic) wine and let grief straight off (without deliberation and hesitation) forget me. O
Hafiz! Be regardful of the delicacy and refinement of the beloved master's temper (who would
be upset by your moans and groans); go away from his portal and take your moans and groans
along with you.

LYRIC 324 (12 VERSES)

1-12. O cupbearer (beloved master)! Bring on the capital of youth (i.e. stimulate me spiritually;
in other words, your youthful, lively discourses will bring on ecstasy); bring to bear (on this
matter) one or two cups of (gnostic) rack.

Bring out of yourself the medicinal drug to cure the affliction of love (i.e. the gnostic wine-your
divine mystery-which is a cure for the sheikh or the venerable oldman, a religious leader or high
priest) and shoveling (a priest or clergyman with a shaven head, a young fellow) alike (sheikh-o-
shaab).

There is the sun (source or root) and there is the moon (the derivative), there is the gnostic wine
(the beloved master) and there is the cup (the loving seeker). Bring off the sun into the moon (i.e.
let the sun or the master, by his erotic mysticism; stimulate the moon, or the seeker).

Don't entertain the worry caused by the vicissitudes of the Wheel of Time; these worrying
fluctuations keep on coming and going; bring off the melodies of sarangi and rebeck (Hahoot)
(through gnostic orgasm).

(Dianoetic) intellect is contumacy in person ; for its neck, bring over the rope of (gnostic) wine.

O master! Throw some water on my fire (of love); (that is to say,) bring up that fire (of your
beauteous visage) which is like (cold, satisfying, comforting) water (that would extinguish my
fire of love).

If the rose (the master as a corporeal being) has gone, tell him to go with pleasure ; but for me,
bring to me the rack, pure and clean as rose-water (the master's own grace, Water of Life from
him that would restore me to consciousness).

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If the howl and growl (cry of pain and sorrow) of the red-legged partridge (qumree) is no more,
it is permissible; but bring up to me the gurgling sound of the glass bottle of the (gnostic) wine
(i.e. let me hear the discourses of my beloved master).

Whether drinking (the gnostic wine) is meritorious or unlawful, is not relevant; irrespective of
whether it is a transgression or an act of righteousness, bring forward the (gnostic) wine.

Union with him is something which cannot but be dreamt of; as it is, bring to me the medicinal
drug which is the fountainhead of sleep (i.e. bring up to me that drug which would make me
oblivious to this fleshly world and enable me to see the vision of my merger unto my beloved
master).

Although I am ecstatic, bring on three or four cups (of gnostic wine to take care of my body,
mind and soul and all my wits, and which can place above the three gunas or properties-
Satt,rajas and tam—and four ingredients of my antehkaran— manas, consciousness, intellect
and ego), so that I may become entirely spoiled for this fleshly world and be landed in the state
of all absorbing love, i.e. hairat).

O beloved cupbearer! Give to Hafiz one or two heavy cups i.e. heavy dozes of gnosticism, by
which he may rise beyond this phenomenal world (Pind Desh) and transcend the world beyond
(Brahmand) and make it to the region of Haq or Hoot], whether it is vicious or virtuous.

LYRIC 325 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O cypress, tall and lofty, with beauteous gait! O sweet-heart, heart-ravishing and preening,
mellifluous of speech!

You have guilefully nobbled my heart; for the sake of the Lord, keep an eye on it.

If you jerk your liliaceous locks (it will release such a bewildering fragrance before which) the
musk would become non-descript and worthless.

O smart idol (beloved who is so crafty as to outwit every lover of his)! Don't take once again to
the ways of the unfaithful; O cunning beloved, take to faithfulness (i.e. requite my love)!

Ever and anon (now and then, again and again), favour me with your kiss so that you may be
able to eat the fruit of your life's mission (i.e. I am like the tree that you yourself planted and
sustained; hence make mefructiferous so that your effort may bear fruit).

Since the moment I beheld your two spell-casting, fascinating eyes, front my heart patience and
peace (sabr-o-qaraar) have departed.

Afflicted Hafiz is perplexed to see that your own thrall is without gold (of gnosis) and without
any worth or rank.

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LYRIC 326 (6 VERSES)

1-6. It is the night of union (honeymoon) and the account of separation stands wound up ; it is all
quiet and safe until the day-break (i.e. so long as in my contemplation of you, I see your
glimpses I am in a state of tranquility).

O my heart! Persevere steadfastly and be firm-footed on the path of love-knot (aashiqi), for on
this path, no exertion goes unrewarded.

I will not repent (and recant) for my ecstasy, even if you vex me with your separation or by
saying things, good or bad, to me.

My heart is lost (to you) and yet I have not yet beheld the (inner) countenance of my heart-
ravisher; I lament for this injustice and I sob and sigh for this snub.

O splendorous dawn! For the sake of God, appear, for I find the night of separation much too
dark to bear with.

O Hafiz! If you desire faithfulness (on the part of your beloved master) learn to put up with the
inequity of his unfaithfulness, for in every commerce and trade, if there is some gain, there is
also some loss (i.e. pluses or positive and minuses or negative, go together).

LYRIC 327 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O zephyr (i.e. O my comrade)! Don't hesitate in passing by the side of the abode of my
sweetheart (i.e. beloved master) and don't have any reservation in giving the news about him to
his miserable lover.

O rose (advanced gnostic seeker)! You have bloomed and blossomed in accordance with your
heart's ardent desire; in gratitude for it, don't be reluctant in apprising the bulbul (lover) of the
fragrance or your union with him.

All our longing, O master, is dependent on just one single charismatic token of yours; as it is,
don't tarry in coming to your ancient lovers.

O master! When youwere a new moon (i.e. when you first manifested as the perfect saint), I was
a close companion of your assembly (congregation), and now that you are a full moon (i.e. now
that you are at your spiritual zenith as the perfect master), don't avert your eyes from us.

This (phenomenal) world and all that it contains within it is easy (of attainment) and is
shortlived; in this fleeting, shortlived realm, don't hold back from the gnostics (ahl-i-maarfat).

The poet (who is a creator in his own world) carries your creativity all over the horizons; don't be
grudging in giving them the (spiritual) stipend and viaticum for their (spiritual) journey.

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If you expect a goodly recitation (of the Great Name from your lovers who sing of your glory in
verses), then in paying them its price, don't be slow in making a gift of yellow metal (your love)
and silver (your spiritual lustre) to them.

Now, that your ruby-like lips are the fountain of (spiritual) honey (discourse), don't waver in
giving to parrots (your loyal lovers who are your alter ego) your candy (your discourses which
are sweet as candy ; cf. Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 179).

Those (spiritual) wayfarers who, in their (gnostic) concentration and contemplation, traverse the
cosmos, don't be tardy in setting out to welcome them (for they are your own messengers and
couriers).

O Hafiz! The dismal cloud of dust kicked up by grief (caused by your love for the beloved
master) would be dispelled, and your (emotional) state would improve; as it is, on the path of
love, don't desist from shedding water of tears from your eyes.

LYRIC 328 (11 VERSES)

1-6. It is Id and the springtide is on, and the lovers are expectant (hopefully looking forward to
meeting the beloved master); O cupbearer (advanced gnostic), sight the new moon in the
countenance of the king (the beloved master, the sovereign of the age, not in the sky) and, serve
the (gnostic) wine (i.e. let us all be busy in contemplation)!

My heart had become indifferent to the season of roses (the springtide when the perfect gnostic
master is in full bloom, at the instance of those who pontificate dogmatically), but all the
persistence of the pharisaics failed to produce the desired effect.

If the sehri (food taken early in the morning on a day of fast) has lapsed, no harm is caused, for I
have the morning (gnostic) wine (i.e. if I have allowed the traditional rituals like fasting and
eating sehri to lapse, so what? I have the morning practice of Sultan-al-Azkar); the seekers of the
beloved (gnostic) master begin their day of fasting by quaffing the (gnostic) wine (cf. Sar
Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., paras 54 and 212).

Except for the cash of my soul, I have nothing to lay my hands on, and this soul I have already
sacrificed (unto my beloved master); O comrade, where is the (gnostic) wine, so that, that too I
could offer as oblation to the charisma of my cupbearer (my beloved master)?

The luck is smiling and the ruling sovereign (the living master) is hale and hearty ; O Lord! Save
him from the evil eye of the Wheel of Time.

O comrade! Quaff the (gnostic) wine while you hear the (gnostic) verses of this bondsman, for
that will give your enamelled cup (lively, stimulating spirit) mixed with the pearls (verses)
worthy or the king (the perfect master), a new decor (i.e. would make it more stimulating).
[Hafiz here appears to be alluding to the belief mentioned by Dioscorides and Pliny that pearls

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are formed by drops of rain (during Swati constellation) falling into the oyster shells while open.
Cleopatra and Sir Thomas Gresham are said to have dissolved pearls in wine by way of
displaying their wealth and love. Clodius, son of Aesop, the tragedian, drew a pearl of great
value from his ear, melted it in vinegar, and drank to the health of Cecilia Metella. This story is
referred to by Valerius Maximus, Macrobius and Pliny. And in Shakespeare, Richard 111, iv, 4
we have: "The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, shall come again, transformed to orient
pearl."]

7-11. Don't rivet your heart to this (phenomenal) world (fixed or held firmly as in fascinated
attention), and question someone inebriated (of the gnostic wine) about the (spiritual) benefit that
accrues from the (gnostic) cup and the tale of the cup of Jamshed (the seven-ringed golden cup,
typical of the seven heavens, the seven planets, the seven seas etc. which was full of the elixir of
life).

O my heart ! The court of ardent passion of love is very exalted and lofty; concentrate your
attention on it (i.e. on the beloved master); prick up your ears to the tale (of love) and listen to it
attentively.

O (gnostic) master! Your universal favour and grace is hidden (of which the vulgar are
unaware) ; as it is, cover up our cash coin (soyl) for that is counterfeit (tainted with lewdness)
lacking (spiritual) genuineness (kum ayyar).

I am afraid that on the Day of Judgment the rosary of the sheikh and the khirqa (mantle) of the
one inebriated of the (gnostic) wine would be on par with each other.

O Hafiz! Now that Ramadhan (the month of fasting, i.e. the phase of your conventional faith) has
passed, and the season of the rose (the day of the living master) is also passing, inevitably, quaff
the (gnostic) wine, for the spiritual business is going out of your hand.

LYRIC 329 (8 VERSES)

1-8. I am the ardent lover of my beloved (master); what have I to do with infidelity or
with faith (kufr-o-imman)? I am thirsty of the pain (of love); what have I to do with either union
(with the beloved) or with separation (from the beloved)? O my life! From the lips of my
beloved (master, i.e. from his spiritual discourses) I cannot find a trace of (gnostic) life (i.e. they
are so recondite and terse that they sail over my head; it is not a task which can be said to be
plain sailing, easy to comprehend); as it is, O my spirit, what have I to do either with my life or
with my sweetheart (the beloved master)? I am a casualty of love; what concern do I have with
the police chief-of this world? I am a destitute, denuded; •what have I to do with the crowd of
court functionaries? For me, the eyebrow of my heart-ravisher alone is my kiblah and the niche
(object of worship); what has this distracted heart of mine to do with either the (traditional)
kiblah or the niche ? Since in both the worlds (this world and the world beyond) all that I need is
my beloved (master), what concern do I have with heaven or with hell, with the houri or with

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beauteous young boys? The one who, on the path of love, has become dismembered from his
own self (existence or being), what awareness can he have of sorrow or suffering, and what has
he to do with any remedy? Where for you prefer this print (form) of real men (valiant men)? Opt
for the proclivity (nature) of the valiant men: one who professes to be a valiant lover, what has
he to do with the prints (portraits and images) hanging in the palaces? O Hafiz! If you are an
ardent lover (of the beloved master) and inebriated (of the gnostic wine), say again: "I am the
lover of my beloved master, and what have I to do with infidelity or faith ?"

LYRIC 330 (9 VERSES)

1-9. If I remain alive, I will go to the (gnostic) tavern once again, and except for
rendering service to those inebriated (of gnostic wine), I will undertake no other work. That
would be a blessed day when with my tearful eyes, I would knock the door of the (gnostic)
tavern and will rain my tears on that door. This community (of the pharisaics and charlatans, the
tall and the mighty rulers of the worlds) is alien to gnosis; O Lord, help me so that I may carry
my (spiritual) pearls (my gnostic verses) to some other buyers (who know their worth). My
disposition earnestly seeks sang-froid, if only the saucy coyness and provocative locks of hair (of
that beloved master) give me some respite. If the circle (sphere) of this azure firmament were to
become propitious and helpful to me, by another pair of compass (by a fresh gnostic approach
and entreaties) I will encompass him (i.e. make him agreeable to me). See, how the other
(gnostics) are revealing, through a tale, our own closely guarded (gnostic) mysteries, through the
sounds of tenor drum (Lahoot) and flute (Hootal Hoot) every time in a bazaar (circle of
gnostics). If my beloved master has departed without recognizing the obligation of ancient (pre-
eternal) companionship, God forbid if I go trailing behind another beloved (master). Every
moment I moan and groan out of my pain (of love), for every instant, the Wheel of Time (the
sphere) makes a target of my heart with a different torture. I repeat once again that in this affair
(of love for the beloved master), Hafiz is not alone (in being subjected to torture); in this wild
expanse of sand (of love) there are many others who have become drowned and submerged.

LYRIC 331 (15 VERSES)

1-8. O spiritual striver! I give you a counsel to which prick up your ears to listen attentively, and
don't take to pretext (specious excuse) and accept what the kind and generous counsellor tells
you.

Since the pretence (fraud masquerade) of this wizened world is in ambuscade, waiting in a
concealed position in order to launch a surprise attack on your, life, take full advantage from the
union with the countenance of the youthful (perfect saints).

In the eye of the lovers (of saints), the rarities of both the worlds are worth a barley; the entire
wealth of this world is very little, and its worth of a barley is despicable. For pleasantly living
together.

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I want a lovely friend (a perfect master) and for a musical instrument I want a sarod (rood) so
that I may sing the plaintive song of my pain (of love) in crescendo and diminuendo.

I am thinking of not drinking (the gnostic) wine and not commit (what this pharisaical world
calls as) transgression; if only fate were to follow my plan (i.e. if my beloved master were to
redeem me without my becoming ecstatic).

Who is going to catch my runaway heart ? Inform the Majnun (lover of the master), who is
fettered in chains, about it (i.e. there is none who can lock horns with my runaway heart, running
straight into my beloved master? If you can, inform me about it).

When they (God) made the pre-eternal dispensation without our presence (without consulting
us), then, O Lord, if there is a little we do against your dispensation, kindly don't take offence
(get annoyed).

As for me, a hundred times I put down the (gnostic) cup from my hand with the firm intention of
taking a vow not to touch It again ; but (what can I do, for) the charisma of my cupbearer
(beloved master) leaves no stone unturned (in prevailing upon me to quaff).

9-15. O cupbearer! Pour down the rack-like red anemone (symbolic of Lahoot) in my cup (heart),
for the (attractive) print of the comely beauty spot of my beauteous sweetheart is never erased
from my conscience.

When it comes to me to choose my company from the younger and the older, I have chosen the
two-year old (gnostic) wine (i.e. I have been practising Sultan-al-Azkar for two years now) and
the fourteen-year old beloved (i.e. my gnostic master of fourteen years standing) and that will
make do.

O my heart! Didn't I warn you to be careful and cautious about his locks of hair? For I know that
they put even the wind in fetters in the curls.

O comrade! Fetch to me the cup of sapphire (colour of the Universal Mind or Brahmn, the top
region of whom is Hahoot) and get me the favour of the beauteous white pearl (symbol of
Lahoot), (from my beloved master), and ask the envier to witness the grace of my Asif—like
disciple-in-chief of the master and kill himself (Asif was the generous prime minister of
Solomon).

O comrade! Quaff the (gnostic) wine and resolve to have union with the sweetheart (the beloved
master). Listen to me attentively, for they (the divinities) are calling you from the top apartment
of arsh (Alam-i-Jabroot, Thousand-Petalled Lotus, for which refer to Sar Bachan, Prose, Part I,
op. cit., para 15).

O preacher! In this (gnostic) assembly (congregation of the perfect master) don't talk about doing
repentance (for the sin of drinking gnostic wine and practising Sultan-al-Azkar), for those

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cupbearers (saints) who have bow-like eyebrows would shoot you with their (coy, amorous)
arrows.

Where is the occasion for talking about the poetic composition of Khajoo, or the verses of
Solomon (both Persian poets of the tenth century)? For the (gnostic) verses of Hafiz are of a
higher order than even those of Zaheer (11th century poet of Persia).

LYRIC 332 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O gnostic striver ! If you are a lover (par excellence, of the gnostic master), keep the
inspiration (himmat) from (other) lovers as your fellow-traveler, and trample over the heads of
the wearers of crown and holders of rank (i.e. ignore the high and the mighty). Stun (overwhelm)
the modest dervish (afraid of public ridicule) by your stroke (literally, stone) of (gnostic)
inebriation, and leave the scar of despair on the heart of the seekers of this fleshly world and the
(pretentious, supercilious) faithfuls. Pick up catholicity (vide range of interests and tastes,
liberality, universality, comprehensiveness and lofty courage) from the firmament, and learn
lavish' hospitality from the terra firma ; seek manliness from the sun and derive the light of love
from the moon. For the sake of attaining an exalted (worldly) rank, how long will you hold the
skirt of a ruling king ? Go and like valiant men grasp the chain of the sanctuary of the king of
kings (the perfect master of the age, the qutb-al-aqtoob).If you cannot manage to occupy and sit
on the throne of (spiritual) kingdom in the wise of kings (saints), go, and in the wise of carpet
sweepers, grasp the ropes of tents and stables (of saints). Day and night, in the ears of every-one
with a wet skirt (i.e. everyone wet behind the ears, spiritually immature and inexperienced), love
whispers: "If you are the valiant wayfarer of my path (millat-i-ishq), take to the Easy Path
(Sahaj- Yoga, the path of Sultan-al-Azkar, giving up the burdensome track of conventional
rituals, pilgrimages, specious abstinence, scriptures that weigh down a man's soul, and sermons
from the pharisaical preachers). O Hafiz! Come on ! How long will you dwell on la ('there is
nothing'); it is time that you take in your grip the hunting trap (fitraah) of the love for the
mystery of illa Allah (i.e. there is nothing but God; so to say, progress from the initial mystic
stage of la to the final stage of illa Allah).

LYRIC 333 (11 VERSES)

1-11. The lost Joseph (who was made to disappear by his brothers) would return to
Canaan (where Jacob lived, modern Palestine); don't grieve; the black hole of distraction would
turn into a rose-gar-den; don't be dejected. The plight of 'this' grief-stricken would improve; don't
be disappointed; 'that' overwrought mind would once again become resourceful and active
(reinforced and recharged); don't be disheartened. O fowl of melodious voice! Given the spring
of life, stroll around the garden (the gnostic congregation); you will wear the pargsol of roses
(gnosis) on your head; don’t be gloomy. If the Wheel of Time does not revolve for a day or two,
according to our desire, rest assured that the work of this fleeting and fluctuating world will not
remain the same for all time ; don't waste away. O yes, don't despair, for in as much as you are

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not aware of the secrets of the mysterious, invisible realm, any number of games would be
played behind the curtain ; don't be upset. One who straggled in this world, distraught and
distracted, wandering from the main path and did not find a companion to share his distraction, at
long last, he does reach a trouble-sharing comrade; don't be anguished. If in your longing for the
Kaaba (your beloved master), you feel drawn towards a (spiritually) barren and desolate expanse
(of charlatanry and pretension), and if you are chastised by the thorn of the mother of the ghoul
(acacia), don't feel out of sorts (f or you yourself invited that affliction). The desperate straits in
which we are landed by the separation from our beloved master and by the sneers and jeers of
our rivals, all that is known to that Lord who is the supreme changer of situations and
circumstances ; don't feel vexed. O my heart! If the onrush of deadly flood were to threaten you
with extirpation of your existence, don't bother about the Flood where your boatman is Noah (the
perfect master of the age). Although the journey towards your (spiritual) destination is
exceedingly hazardous and the destination is obfuscatory (obscure and invisible), remember that
there is no path which does not entail an end; don't be afflicted. O Hafiz! In the corner of fuqr
and the seclusion (desolation) of dark nights (of despair), so long as you have your moving
supplication and the lesson (of hope) you have learnt from the Koran, don't be dispirited
(allusion to Koran, XII, 87 : "Lo, none despaireth of the spirit of God, save disbelievers !").

SECTION (WITH ZE AS THE TERMINAL)

LYRIC 334 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O cypress-like lofty master, the pride of beauty, who is proudly sauntering around! Your
lovers are necessitous of your proud gait in a hundred ways (i.e. they are charmed and fascinated
in a hundred ways by your preening and your gait and they badly need to see it all).

The good luck of your pride is blessed indeed, for in the pre-eternal state, the cloak of pride was
cut out to your cypress-like size (i .e. you are neither supercilious, nor overweening, but you
preen delicately in order to charm your ardent lovers).

Whosoever has the ardent desire for the fragrance of the ambergris of your locks, let him be
advised to burn out like the eagle-wood on the burning fire (of your beauty and attraction) and
make up with it.

The genuineness or gold does not become less by the taunts of the rivals, even when they scrape
me like gold by the mouth of the scraper (which would only burnish and furbish me).

The heart of the moth is burnt by the candle, but in my case, my heart keeps on melting away
even without the fire of your (ravishing) cheeks.

O master! When my heart has developed (gnostic) awareness from circumambulation around the
Kaaba of your street, its longing for that holy shrine does not drive him towards Hejaz (Mecca,
the birth place of Mohammed, containing the Kaaba).

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Where is the point in taking ablution every time with the blood of eyes (tears of blood), when
with-out resorting to the niche of your eyebrows, my ritual prayer (namaz) has no acceptability
and sanction.

That Sufi of ours who only yesterday vowed against the (gnostic) wine, (today) when he saw the
door of the (gnostic) tavern agape, he broke his plighted word.

When yesterday, Hafiz heard of this secret (of that Sufi) from the lips of the cup (the perfect
master), applauding and clapping in the wise of an intoxicated by the (gnostic) wine, he (i.e.
Hafiz) rushed towards the pitcher of the (gnostic) wine (i.e. the perfect master).

LYRIC 335 (9 VERSES)

1-9. On the way to the (gnostic) tavern, for the lovers (of the perfect gnostic master), there is the
same urgency in their running about and go-and-get-up as the hadjis have on way to Hajaz
(Mecca).

O Master ! What shall I tell you about my heart's burning (caused by love for you)? You better
enquire from my tears about my tale, for I am no ogler (given to tell tales through my looks).

The beauty of the (spiritual) exaltation of Mahmud, in sooth, has no need for the locks of Ayaz,
except for the purpose of revealing the charisma of (the) beauty (of Ayaz).

Henceforth, from the court of my beloved master, I will not go to any other door; in as much as I
have found my Kaaba (ultimate object of quest, i.e. my beloved master), I would refrain from
idol-worship (in which they indulge by going to Kaaba or any other temple or shrine, instead of
prostrating before the perfect living master, God's plenipotentiary on earth).

In the morning (i.e. in my morning meditation), I supplicate from my destiny such a night during
which in your presence, I could begin the elaboration of the beginning of my end (i.e. in which,
before your vision, I could commence the arduous task of my spiritual redemption).

O master! My body, out of the intolerable pain of separation from you, wanted to close its eyes
to the world (sought to die), but the hope of union with you gave it a fresh lease of life.

During the long nights of separation (from you) and in the hope of the dawn of union with you, I
knocked at the door of my heart (i.e. at the sixth ganglion or nukta-i-sveda, the portal to the
Divine abode) in the burning heart of my yearning.

When the morning zephyr (Divine impulse in you) is the confidant of the secrets of my heart (i.e.
knows all about my ardent love for you), how can my hidden secret which is like the closed bud,
remain concealed? (In other words, love and cough cannot be hid. No disguise can long conceal'
love where it is, nor feign it where it is not. Divine love is a sacred flower which, in its early bud,
is happiness, and in its full bloom is heaven).

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O Hafiz! In the longing for that assembly (congregation) where that moon (i.e. my beloved
master) has pitched in his magnificent tent, if you are burnt with affliction like a candle, keep
burning and make it up with it.

LYRIC 336 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O beloved master! By my desire for your lips (for your spiritual discourses), my ultimate
object has not yet been realized; in the hope of receiving your ruby-like cup (the magnet of your
impulse that would promptly push up to the level of Lahoot), I am yet a tosspot of dregs.

The very first day (that I met you), infatuated with your locks of hair, I lost my traditional faith
(deen); Let us see what this infatuation would bring forth at the end (i.e. what it has in store for
me).

One night, by a slip of tongue, J described your hair as fragrant as the musk of Khotan; since
then, every instant your hair are darting arrows at my body (i.e. I committed a Himalayan
blunder in comparing the fragrance of your hair with the insignificant fragrance of musk of
Khotan, and since then I am suffering from the pangs of uneasy conscience).

One day, by a slip of tongue my name appeared on the lips of my sweetheart (the beloved
master); all those who have a spiritually live heart are even today receiving spiritual scent from
my name.

(And, again, look at this case) one day the sun detected the reflection of your refulgence in my
secluded corner (where I practice Sultan-al-Azkar, contemplating on your visage), and in the
upshot, that sun is running about my top apartment, trailing the shadow like a detective.

The cupbearer of yourruby-like lips (i.e. God), in the pre-eternal, had gifted to me such a draught
from the (gnostic) cup that till now I am crazy of that cup.

O my cupbearer (master)! Give me a draught of that water of fire (gnostic wine), for amid the
confirmed lovers of it, I am yet a raw recruit.

O my comrade! You had advised me: "Give away your soul (unto the master) so that your heart
may be comforted." Lo, I surrendered my soul to the care of the ambitions (caused by my love
for him), but tranquility is still eluding me.

Hafiz reduced to writing the tale of his (i.e. master's) lips and, lo! from all my pens the Water of
Life is flowing till now.

LYRIC 337 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O master! Come and lay the boat (of my heart) in the sea of (gnostic) wine; instil (spiritual)
zap and pep into the spirit of the sheikh and the shaveling (sheikh-o-shaab).

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O cupbearer! Do me a favour and fling me into the boat of (gnostic) wine, for as they say, "Do
good and cast it into the river" (i.e. forget about it and don't expect any return for the good you
have done).

By error, I lapsed (i.e. turned away) from the street of the (gnostic) tavern. O master! In your
grace and favour, put me back on the road to righteousness (gnosis), O master!

From that wine, red as the rose and fragrant as the musk (emblem of Lahoot), give me a cup, and
throw a spark of envy and jealousy into the heart of the rose (i.e. into my heart that would
become rose-like, so that it should jealously guard its secret and mystery).

Albeit I am inebriated (of gnostic wine), and I am good-for-nothing (for this fleshly world), show
me your favour and cast a favourable eye on this distracted and overwrought, despicable heart of
mine.

O gnostic seeker'! If in the thick darkness of midnight, you desire the refulgent sun (i.e. the
refulgent vision of the inner form of the perfect master), lift the veil from the rose-like face of the
daughter of grape (lift the veil of your nescience and ignorance from the face of your befouled
mind and have the gnostic vision).

O master! Don't abandon me so that on the day of death, they may not surrender my corpse to the
dust (or the grave); lift me to the (gnostic) tavern and fling me into the pitcher of (gnostic) wine
(so that I may become vivified after I am dead to my flesh).

O Hafiz! At the inequity of the Wheel of Time, your heart has become humble (i.e. when you are
rid of your ego), dart the spear of shooting star (Divine impulse) towards the deadly Devil
(Mahakal, the Uttermost Satan). (Shooting stars are said by the Arabs to be fire brands hurled by
angels against the inquisitive jinni who are forever climbing up on the constellations to peep into
the heaven).

O master! If the heart of Hafiz were to withdraw from you by a hair (i.e. hair's breadth), seize it
and tie it up with the string of the windings and turns of your locks of hair and fling it into its
coils.

LYRIC 338 (7 VERSES)

1-7. (After me, O master,) who will speak of the plight of the blood-soaked hearts (of your
lovers)? Who would wreak vengeance on the Wheel of Time for the blood of Jamshed (who had
that seven-ringed golden cup, typical of the seven heavens, the seven planets etc.)?

Except for Plato, the companion of the pitcher of (gnostic) wine (the advocate of the doctrine of
pre-existing eternal ideas, immortality and pre-eminence of the soul, the dependence of virtue
upon spiritual, mental and physical discipline, the trustworthiness of cognition, Platonic or

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spiritual love, and illusoriness of the world of senses), who will speak again of the mystery of
love and wisdom (philo-sophy)?

If after me, the intoxicating narcissus grows again, it should feel shame at the memory of the
bewitching eyes of the worshippers of (gnostic) wine.

Anyone who wanders around holding a cup of gnostic wine of the hue of red anemone, on
account of the inequity of time he would once again wash down his face with the blood (of his
anguished heart).

The violin (of Hahoot), behind the curtain (i.e. in the process of Sultan-al-Azkar) revealed many
a secret; cut off its strings so that, after me, it may not moan again.

If only that anemone-like cup (the perfect master) once again gives me his (spiritual) scent, my
bud-like heart may bloom and blossom again.

If Hafiz does not die (i.e. remains alive), he would crawl on his head round about the pitcher of
(gnostic) wine (i.e. his beloved master) as one circumambulates around the reserved, sacred
enclosure of Kaaba (bait-ul-haram).

LYRIC 339 (10 VERSES)

1-10. (O spiritual striver!) Rise and in the cup of yellow metal (pale in anguish of love), pour in
the (gnostic) water which induces the rapture of ecstasy, and do it before the cup of your head is
reduced to become a dust-bin (i.e. do it before you give up the ghost).

At the end of it all, our destination is the peace of the graveyard; as it is, now is the time for you
to howl and growl under the domes of the spheres (i.e. raise a spiritual ruckus and rouse the
seekers to stir and engross themselves in gnosis).

You know it very well that the produce of this sensual cultivation (collection of sensual objects
by expending your labour) has no stability (i.e. it is fleeting and transitory short-lived); as it is,
set aflame these riches and wealth with the fife from the liver of the (gnostic) cup [i.e. with the
fire of love for the beloved master (anurag) incinerate your attachment with the fleshly objects
and develop detachment and withdrawal or vairag through anurag].

O cypress-like beloved (master)! I adjure you in the name of your spiritually lively and verdant
(spiritually vibrant) head, that when I am reduced to dust, exorcise the demon of ego from my
head and heart and cast your shadow over me (i.e. make me your shadow or inseparable
companion).

O beloved master! Admit my heart, bitten by the serpent of your locks of hair (the tangled,
divine mysteries) into the hospital of the antidote of your elixir-like lips (that would counter the
serpent's venom by clearly spelling out your Divine mysteries).

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I have bathed in my tears (i.e. become abased and humble and I am in burning fire of love for
you), for the men of gnosis say : "First become cleansed [by eschewing hypocrisy (nafaq),
inequity (zulm), infidelity (khianat), avarice (bukhl), extravagance E' (israf), dissension (fasad),
envy and jealousy (hasad), arrogance and ostentation (istikbar) and lewdness (fahsha)], and then
cast an eye on that hallowed (master).

O Lord! That supercilious, pharisaical abstinent, who could notice nothing except faults and
flaws, cover the mirror of his understanding with the smoke of the sighs and sobs of those whom
he torments and taunts (so that he may be blindfolded and cease to find fault with us).

The eye with a sodden (dulled) vision (bedaubed and befouled) is ever remote from the visage of
the sweetheart (the beloved master); O master, from your clean and pure mirror (of your heart)
cast an eye on him (i.e. on that overweening and presumptuous abstinent).

With such dirt-sodden eyes, you cannot be perceived; avert such an eye from you and let only the
clean, pure, piercing eye behold you.

O Hafiz! Like the rose, by his (master's) fragrance. take off your cloak and cast that cloak on the
way of that smart gaited beloved (master).

LYRIC 340 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O comrade! My heart has been nobbled and nabbed by a whore who is idolatorous, raucous
and uproarious (i.e. excites lust and prurience), false of plighted word, killer (destroyer) of
dignity and honour and one who changes colour (i.e. blushes and looks awkward and perplexed
when found out in some fraud, lechery, deceit and meanness). [These are the traits of what John
Bunyan calls Madam Bubble (Maya) who is of swarthy complexion, speaks smoothly, a witch, a
great gossiper, a bold and impudent slut, laughs spiritual wayfarers to scorn and commends the
rich, is a cheat and so on. The Pilgrim's Progress, Nelson, London, pp. 324+25.]

A thousand garments of righteousness and mantles of abstinence are sacrifice able to the torn
kurtas of the moon-faced comely beloveds (i.e. the gnostic saints).

O seeker! The angel knows not what ardent passion of love is; don't tell me tales (don't tell
fanciful lies); instead, fetch a cup of (gnostic) wine and shower it on the dust of the son of Adam
(who alone knows what love is).

I am a thrall of those (spiritual) discourses which fan one's passion (literally, which fan the fire)
of love (for the-perfect master), not of that cant (hypocritically moralizing, stupid talk) and
tedious homilies that throw cold water on the furious fire (of love, i.e. which treat a lover with
wet blanket and act as spoil-sport).

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O kind beloved master! I have come to your sanctuary in utter destitution and as a broke (having
no spiritual capital); take pity on me; except for the authority of your companionship and love, I
have no other letter patent (authoritative document).

O seeker! Come (to the gnostic tavern), for yesterday, the invisible angel of the (gnostic) tavern
said to me: "Stay put on the spot of acquiescence (to the master's will) and don't run away from
the Divine decree."

O comrades! Tie up the (gnostic) cup with my shroud, so that on the Day of Judgment, with
(gnostic) wine, may erase the traces of seizing and holding.

O man! Don't be bloated and arrogant of the strength of your arms, for every instant this kind
(i.e. unkind) Wheel of Time (sphere) plays a thousand legerdemain (conjuring tricks or sleight
Of hand). There is no barrier between the lover (devotion) and the beloved (the master);

O Hafiz, you yourself (i.e. your own 'I-ness' or ego) have become a screen against yourself (so as
to conceal yourself from the inner form of the perfect master); rise from between you and the
beloved (master, i.e. erase your ego that stops your merger unto him)!

LYRIC 341 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O beloved master! Reappear, so that in (my) depleted (exhausted) heart, stamina may be
restored; come, so that in the dispirited heart, spirit may come back again.

Come, for your separation (from me) has so blindfolded my eyes that possibly the successful
opening of the gate of union with you may reopen my eyes (i.e.may attain to my epiphany).

Whatever I do before the mirror of my heart, it shows up nothing except the image of your
beauty (i.e. wherever I cast my glance, I see nothing save your beauteous image).

The dark (deadly) grief which has taken possession of the dominion of my heart like the black
(literally, Zanzibari troops) can only be dispelled and wasted by the white arrays of your merry
face.

Following the parable of the night (of despair) becoming pregnant by the day (hope), I am
counting the stars (i.e. I am ruminating in a state of hush) awaiting to see what the night delivers
this time.

O seeker! By the fright of wilderness, don't affliict your heart; impose certain restraints (ahraam)
on yourself (so that your journey to Kaaba, your beloved master, can become easy), for the

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valiant spiritual wayfarer does not worry (by the obstructions and hindrances of the path), even if
he does not come back (and is waylaid on the path).

O lively master! come, for the agreeable (infatuated) bulbul of the heart of Hafiz, urged by the
fragrance of the rose-garden of (expected) union with you is once again warbling and chuckling.

LYRIC 342 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Today, it is the day of (spiritual) pleasure and rapturous delight; it is the (last) day of
Ramadhan (separation from the master); today, my heart is going to attain to its objective (of Id,
and union with the beloved master), and time is moving in accordance with the design of my
heart's desire. Tell the bride of firmament (sun) not to show up its visage from the east, for today
I have to see that full moon (my perfect master). That (arrogant) abstinent who had no regard for
any spot save the prayer houses (mosques and temples), look at him today, firmly settled in a
corner of the (gnostic) tavern. I wonder why, early in the morning, is the ecstatic bulbul (lover of
the perfect master), warbling dolefully, while his business (of love-making with the rose, the
perfect master) is in perfect order under the caresses of the springtide (the advent of the perfect
master). O earnest gnostics! Tell the Superintendent of Public Morals not to administer senseless
admonition to those (gnostically) ecstatic; who is there today who is not with his beloved
(master) and (gnostic) wine? That preaching sheikh who used to prevent me from getting close to
the locks (Divine mysteries of my perfect master), when I saw him today, I found him caught in
the trap (of the perfect master's locks) like a fowl (i.e. like an earnest gnostic). Ask the people to
proclaim that now, today, the gaze of Hafiz is fastened on the (beauteous) countenance of the
beloved master, and on the lips of the (gnostic) cup (the perfect master's spiritual discourses).

LYRIC 343 (UVERSES)

1-8. O beloved master! You have once again wound and wrapped your black
(mysterious) locks (Divine secrets) in curves within curves; you have once again made time with
me (succeeded in seducing me) who was already sour and surly. May the evil eye keep off that
comely face, for today you have jeered at the moon (ordinary„ second, -rate seekers) and scoffed
at the sun (the overweening, false saints). You have thrown stone at the cup (heart) of the
pleasant state of my tranquility (by your heart-ravishing coyness and amorous looks); who has
the gumption to say anything to you, for you have once again struck the (melodious) note of
ecstasy (literally, you have once again quaffed the cup)? O my (beloved) friend (master)! Take
pre-caution against the smoke rising from the fire (of love) smouldering in my fragile heart, for
you have once again set aflame my consumed heart (by your bewitching, gnostic advances).
'Notwithstanding the fact that you have decaptitated me once again, even though I had been
beheaded already, I lay down my head like a pen (on plank) before my craze for you [i.e. you
had already chopped off my gross ego (raising me. to Alam-i-Jabroot) and then you cut off my
subtle ego (by lifting me to the region of Hahoot) ; but since the substratum of ego is still there, I
put down my head before you so that you may chop if off too, by raising me to the level of

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Hootal Hoot (wherein lies the subsoil of ego or ahm or sohang)]. I had cleansed and burnished
the genuine gold of my heart by the water of my eyes; but, then, now you have rendered my race
pallid as the yellow metal (i.e. not being satisfied with the spiritual glow of my heart which I had
cleansed and refurbished under the hammering or garhat from your hands, you have once again
rubbed the golden coin of my face against the touchstone in order to test whether it has become
pure, undiluted gold or not). By the fragrance (of your Divine impulse), you had already struck
off the sugar and candy (stopped delivering sweet, spiritual discourses) ; today you have
launched a fresh invasion on the rose and sugar (i .e. chastised the advanced gnostics for not
turning inward and become engrossed in Sultan-al-Azkar, instead of depending entirely on your
sweet discourses). O master! For the gerfalcon of the grief caused by his love for you, the heart
of Hafiz is like a pigeon (i.e. pigeon-livered, timid and easily frightened); remember that once
again you have set the falcon (i.e. your love) to make a prey of a pigeon (i.e. Hafiz).

LYRIC 344 (8 VERSES)

1-8. On the advent (literally, stepping in) of the rose (i.e. the perfect master), the zephyr
(i.e. the Divine impulse) is bestowing refreshness on the soul; where is the melodious,
mellifluous bulbul (lover of the saint)? Ask him to warble (sing merrily and celebrate the
manifestation of the perfect master). O my heart! Don't decry separation, for in this world there
is grief as well as gaiety, there is the thorn as well as the rose, there is the high and there is the
low (i.e. another name for this world is the pair of opposites so that man keeps on rolling from
one state to another). Although on account of grief (caused by my love for the perfect master) I
have become double-bent like a bow, I cannot talk of abandoning the bow of the eyebrows of
that archer. O gnostic strivers! Don't narrate the tale of woe of the night of separation (from the
beloved master) to the enemies (of gnosis), for the chest of the malicious and the spiteful is not
worthy of becoming the confidant of (Divine secrets). The distraction of my heart became
exposed by your locks or hair on which I had fastened my gaze); and it is fragrant as musk, and
no wonder if it acts as an informer (carrying tales of my love for you). O master! A thousand
eyes have your face as their cynosure; even if you, in your pride of modesty, do not cast an eye
on them (i.e. on those that fondly behold your lovely visage). O my heart! if the beloved (master)
were to burn you out in the fire of his love, don’t moan and groan ; (on the contrary,) breathe in
his love and make it up with the pain it causes. The darkly dust (ghubaar) raised by my loving
heart turns the eye of the enemy blindfolded; O Hafiz, with humility you lay down your face on
the dust (of the feet of the beloved master that makes your heart raise the dust).

LYRIC 345 (7 VERSES)

1-7. Under the spell of last night's quailing of the gnostic wine (i.e. last night's
meditation), I am even now ecstatic; my cupbearer (beloved master) hasn't gone back home (i.e.
his vision is still with me). The grief, which is cating my heart out, is that he (the pharisaical
abstinent) asks: "Have you vowed to abandon ardent passion of love or not yet ?" His (master's)
ecstatic eye, by its fascinating (spellbinding) coyness is yet aiming its arrow making a target of

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my heart. O spiritual striver! You seek the pearl from the sea of love, and yet you have not
brought to bear your life itself into operation in this venture (i.e. you have to gamble away. your
life in the game of love for that precious pearl of gnosis). O my preening sweetheart! By God, a
whole world (of spiritual strivers) has vowed against your love, but I have not done it yet. The
majlis (perfect master's congregation) is in the same shape as if was, and the minstrel (master's
disciple-in-chief) is striking the same melodious note, the broken-hearted Hafiz has come into
the middle (of his master's congregation) but the beloved master is yet keeping aloof from him
(literally, looking sideways).

LYRIC 346 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O master! I am a poor stranger (to this phenomenal world, for I belong to Hoot) and,
O master, you are the caretaker of poor strangers (for you are the representative of the region of
Haq Hoot, descended here to redeem the spirits of those destined to return to Hoot); for a
moment, pay some attention to the plight of the stranger who has come here from your own
country (Hoot). With whatever noose you wish to entangle me, you may, and then tie me up
(with rope and halter of your choice), provided that you do not avert your eye from my ultimate
object [of my redemption, i.e. you may tie me up with the string of your love (upasana), action
(karma), knowledge (jnan), and the science of gnosis (vijnan); you may engross me in rendering
service unto you and to your congregation, listening to and reflecting on your spiritual
discourses, the recitation of the Great Namc (sumiran), meditation on your beauteous form, or
contemplation of the Saut-i-Sarmadi, or the practices of abstinence or penances, depending on
your grace and my fitness. But do redeem me! (See Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit.; paras 5
and 182)]. Albeit my humble and necessitous hand has no access to the door-sill of your union
with me, I keep on kissing the sleeve of your image [for you have quite a few gnostic tricks
(options) up your sleeve]. I, with a sourish (distracted) heart has not laid down my face on your
doo r-sill as of now ; I had prostrated before you in the pre-eternal (by virtue of the pledge of
alast). O my heart! Don't lament over the (dark) evening (i.e. night) behind which morning is
trailing, for the sting and honey (poison and its antidote) and the high and the low are close
companions. It is very easy and simple for you to humiliate me like the dust of earth (i.e. to
trample over me under your feet, walking roughly and disdainfully); the better course for you is
to saunter and stroll leisurely, and to cast your shadow over the dust (i.e. me, making it your
inseparable companion). The heart inside my chest is writhing like the pigeons; I wonder what
sort of fire it is that you have ignited in my soul? O lovely master! My heart regards (i.e.
respects) your tall (spiritual) stature; you kindly look at (i.e. notice) my short hands (lacking the
necessary support and assistance) and my Ion sleeves (i.e. long- sufferance or enduring pain and
unhappiness without complaint). O adversary! The tale of pain and suffering (caused by my love
for the beloved master) has not begun today; nay, Hafiz, from the pre-eternal is ecstatic (rind)
and has ever been playing the game of love with the beloved (master).

LYRIC 347 (9 VERSES)

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1-9. O accomplisher (par excellence)! O sustainer of your bondsmen! How shall I express my
gratitude unto you? for I am the one who opened his eyes (i.e. since birth) on the (blissful) sight
of my beloved (master), (i.e. since birth I have had the rare privilege of having beholden the
glorious visage of my perfect master).

O comrade! Tell those who are compulsive lovers (afflicted with the pain of love) not to wash
down their faces of the particles of dust (from the street of the beloved), for the dust of the street
of the one that they are in dire need of is the alchemy for the fulfillment of their (spiritual)
longing (murad).

O Khwaja (i.e. O Hafiz)! You have made an oblation of just one or two drops of tears (to your
beloved master) and yet you are preening and displaying charisma on your exalted face (i.e. with
a mere couple of drops of tears you have shed in love for your master, your countenance has
become charismatic and you are preening in pride and satisfaction).

(Gnosis has its own laws, norms and practices which are wholly unlike those of the traditional
faiths, so that) if a (gnostic) lover does not take ablution (tahaarat or cleanliness) with the blood
of his liver, according to the mufti of the creed of love his ritual prayer (namaz) is not rightly
rendered (i.e. it is flawed).

O my heart! Don't turn the rein (i.e. don't turn back) scared of the difficulties (hurdles and
hindrances) on the way of gnosis (tariqat), for the valiant gnostic wayfarer does not worry about
the ups and downs (alternating periods of good and bad fortune, high and low spirits).

In this (temporal) place (i.e. realm of secondary causes, artificial, phenomenal, majazi), don't
hold on (clasp) to anything, save the (gnostic) cup (i.e. the Great Name revealed by the perfect
master of gnosis) ; in the play field of this caravanserai (where people keep on coming in and
going out), play no game save the game of love (for the perfect master; cf. Sar Bachan, Prose,
Part II, op. cit., para 130).

What relationship shall I forge with the breeze (the glib, insincere, deceptive seeker) which has
the gift of the gab (who picks up and carries tales effortlessly, glibly and persuasively), when
even the straight cypress (the straightforward seeker) in this garden (congregation) cannot be
trusted to keep the (gnostic) secrets.

O master! Although your beauty is unconcerned with, and independent of the love of anyone
alien to you, rest assured that am not the one who can keep off the game of love.

The melodious singing of Venus (the hymns sung by the charlatans posing as Venus) cannot
prevail anywhere where Hafiz speaks up (and sings his gnostic verses).

LYRIC 348 (11 VERSES)

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1-11. A thousand thanks (to you and the Lord) that I once again beheld you exactly according to
the design of my ultimate desire [i.e. I had had a full view of your spiritual majesty and found
myself as your comrade (literally, sharing your breath)].

Those who follow the path to reality (Haq, gnosis, Hoot), they are the treaders of the path of
fiction; how is the comrade of love concerned with the ups and downs (of fortune)?

In response to the enquiry (justjoo) of the adversary, it is better to conceal the pain of love for the
master; this is because the chest of the spiteful cannot be the confidant of secrets (or love).

What a storm (perfect master) it was that the Divine masseur raised (and who took everyone by
storm and who, by his gnostic sweep, overwhelmed and enthralled all Viewers); and on top of it;
the Collyrium of his modesty (naaz) blacked his ecstatic daffodil (eye), (i.e. which made his eyes
more killing (allusion to the black cap, a small square of black cloth worn by a judge when he
passes sentences of death on a prisoner; it is part of the judge's attire).

In gratitude for the fact that the majlis (congregation) is radiant by the luminescence of the
beloved (master), if you become afflicted like the candle, burn out and make it up with him (i.e.
the perfect master).

O spiritual striver! The destination of the righteous ones lies in defamation and slander; it is only
by traversing this path that the door of piety and propitiousness has opened to them.

About the slander and defamation which I received at the hands of the grief caused by my love
(for my perfect master), you better enquire from my tears, for I am no back-biter, no inventor and
carrier of tales.

To my lofty and exalted luck, I had pinned my hope to have some idea of your (tall, majestic.
spiritual) stature; from my long life, I had sought the fragrance of your locks (i.e. it would take a
life time to have a scent of the subtleties of your gnostic mysteries).

O striver! By giving half the kiss to a (gnostic) heart, buy his supplication, so that he (the gnostic
heart) may save you from the wiles and guiles of your enemy (your lust and ego, and the fraud
and chicanery of the pharisaical abstinent). (Half the kiss alludes to the saying, "Half is more
than the whole", words which Hesiod spoke to his brother Perseus when he wished him to settle
a dispute without legal wrangling. He meant: "Half of the estate without the expense and worry
of law will be better than the whole after the lawyers have had their pickings." But, then, words
have a very wide signification. As Cowley says: "Unhappy they to whom God has not revealed
by a strong light which must their sense control; that half a great estate's more than the whole";
Cowley, Essays in Verse and Prose, iv).

I have not become aware of, and acquainted with the ha-ha (exclamation expressing derision and
triumph, made by the ghouls and devils) in the night; (how can I take them on, at my own?) O

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master! Take pity on me and pay your favourable attention to my plight in midnight
(contemplation of mine when I am haunted by the devils and their ha-ha).

O reader! In Hejaz (Mecca), as also in Iraq (the land of sensuous delight), the sound of the lyrics
of Hafiz has generated the resonance and reverberations of ardent passion of love.

SECTION (WITH SEEN AS THE TERMINAL)

LYRIC 349 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O zeyhyr! If you pass by the banks of the river Aaras (in Azerbaijan, north-west of Iran),
plant a kiss on the dust of that valley and make yourself fragrant with musk (for that is where the
mansion of my perfect master is).

On the abode (manzil) of that spiritual, salubrious, and salutary master (salma) from my side,
carry two hundred salaams; may you experience the sound of the cameleer (master's disciple-in-
chief) and the sound of bell (the sound of Alam-i-Jabroot, Ahang-i-Jaras, Thousand-Petalled
Lotus, and for cameleer, refer to Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit.).

Kiss the curtained saddle-back (mehmil) of my sweetheart (lovely master) and then make a
humble submission to him on my behalf saying: "l am consumed in the fire of separation from
you; O kind-hearted, rush relief to me!"

O spiritual striver! Enjoy rapturous delight (Sultan-al-Azkar) the whole night; quaff the (gnostic)
wine, for on the path of love the brigands (your lust, anger, greed, delusion, ego, envy, malice)
have close relations with (access to) the Emir of Police (Devil or Kat-Satan).

In its longing for the beloved master, the heart gives away its life with immense pleasure for the
sake of the inebriating look of the beloved (master), notwithstanding the fact that the wise have
not surrendered their free will to anyone (but in the case of the beloved master, they are
overwhelmed by his beauty and get carried away).

I, who at one time, dismissed the dictum of the worldly counsellors (not to fall in love, head over
heels, with the beloved master) as the (meaningless and jocular) sound of rebeck (have now
become more sensible, for) the pain of separation (from the master) has so twitched my ears that
for me that counsel is more than sufficient (i.e. I have now become wiser for I have realized that
the love sport is dangerous and heart consuming).

In the sugarcane bed (the abode of my master), the parrots are joyous with their desires fulfilled;
on the other side, the wretched bee (i.e. I who is far away from the master) is slapping its head
with both hands in utter despair.

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O my heart! The game of love is no mere sporting activity (i.e. it is no playful or good-humoured
joking); you have to gamble your head away in this game; this is because, by the bat of lust and
lechery, you cannot carry the ball of love (i.e. you cannot carry the day by fun or frolic ; you
have to die to your flesh in carrying off the prize).

The only submission I have to make to His Majesty the King (of Saints) is just to make a
mention of my name by the tongue of that beloved's pen (i.e. I will be the happiest person if my
beloved master, the King of Saints, were to address his gnostic message in my name).

LYRIC 350 (6 VERSES)

1-6. O bulbul (i.e. lover of the rose-like master) with musky breath! Lament, for the
fragrance of the advent of springtide (manifestation of the perfect master) has arrived. If your
feet are fettered, then, inside the cage (of corporeal body) lament as I do. O comfort of my soul
(my beloved master)! Throughout the night till the dawn, in your lane (i.e. thinking of you), the
cry and moans and groans rise from my soul as the sound "ding-dong" comes out of the bell (the
sound of Alam-i-Jabroot). As many times as you keep me off from your sweet lips (your sweet
discourses), so many times I return and appear before you, as the bee comes back to honey. The
one who has (spiritual) silver and gold, he is ever frightened of the brigand (the devil who is ever
dead-set on plundering the devout of their spiritual earning) ; but the one, who has become as
inane of (spiritual) work as I am, takes no fright from the (devil's) police (for he only depends on
the relief from his perfect master). (O pharisaical moralist!) Whether you admonish me or put me
behind bars, from this head of mine the ghost of temptation (for the gnostic wine and the gnostic
master) would never be exorcised. O my Turcoman (perfect master) who flings the whole city in
vexation and tension! When you ever keep this broken-hearted Hafiz in a state of affliction,for
once come to his rescue.

LYRIC 351 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O sweetheart! Who has told you: "Don't enquire after my plight and distress ; turn a
stranger and do not make any anxious enquiries about your friends?"

When you have shown grace on all, and you are kindly disposed to all and sundry, then, forgive
us our past transgressions (i.e. let bygones be bygones) and don't enquire into our past.

O earnest seeker! If you desire that the mysteries of love come to light (be revealed to you),
enquire about the story (of love) from the candle (which burns out its lover, the moth); do not
enquire about it from the zephyr (which is no direct witness to the burning of the lover by his
beloved but can only testify on the basis Of hearsay, and hearsay evidence is based on what has
been reported to a witness by others rather than what he has himself observed or experienced,
and for that reason it is generally not admissible as evidence).

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O seeker! Whosoever advised you not to enquire after the health of a dervish (a genuine gnostic)
must be an utter ignoramus, unaware of and unacquainted with the world of dervishes (i.e. who
live in their own world, hidden from the sight of the worldlings).

In those who put on the garment of a Sufi (as a guise to hide their lust and lechery) and haunt the
worship-houses (mosques, temples and churches), don't look for the hard cash (of gnosis) from
those who are (spiritually) destitute and paupers; (so to say,) don't enquire from them the secret
of alchemy (of gnosis that transmutes base metals into gold).

In the book of the philosopher (literally, the physician of dianoetic intellect and discursive
reason, who spiritually is a quack, an ultra-crepidarian, ignorant, yet acting and speaking as if
knowledgeable), there is no chapter on (the disease of) ardent passion of love; O my heart, get
used to enduring pain and affliction (of love), and do not go about asking for the name of the
medicinal drug to cure it.

O striver! From the tablet of your chest, erase even the mark of the rights and obligations
accruing to you from your service, your sincerity, and your obeisance to your beloved master
(for love is only giving, no taking, and don't even enquire about my name as a lover).

O reader! We the (gnostics) have not read the stories of Sikandar (Alexander) and Dara (Darius);
don't ask us for anything save the story of love and loyalty. [Gushtasp assumed the title of Dara
or Darius on ascending the throne in 521 BC and is generally known as Darius the Great. Legend
has it that seven Persian princes agreed that he should be the king whose horse neighed first, and
the horse of Darius was the first to neigh. It was Darius Ill (Codomanus), the last king of Persia,
who was conquered by Alexander the Great in 331 B.C. When Alexander succeeded to the
throne of Macedonia, Darius III sent to him for the tribute of golden eggs, but the Macedonian
replied: “The bird which laid them is flown to the other world, where Darius must seek them".
Darius Ill, then, sent him a bat and ball, jeering at his youth ; but Alexander told. the messengers
of Darius III: "With the bat I will beat the ball of power from their master's hand." Then Darius
Ill sent him a bitter melon, as emblem of the grief in store for him. But the Macedonian declared:
Finally, when Darius. "l will make Darius III eat his own fruit." before the battle of Arbela, sent
to Alexander the terms or peace, Alexander declared : "Heaven cannot support two suns, nor
earth two masters.

"O lovely master! I am familiar with the taste of the affliction of my love for you; the adversary
knows it not; enquire about this matter from the flame (of your own beauty); don't enquire (about
it) from the moth (who flung himself on the flame and got burnt out).

O Hafiz! The season of rose is on (i.e. the matter has become manifest); don't delve deep into the
tangle of (gnosis); obtain the hard cash of life (i.e. focus your attention on the mission of your
life, i.e. redemption) and don't go about enquiring into the whys and wherefores (of gnosis).

LYRIC 352 (7 VERSES)

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1-7. I have so many grouses and grumbles against your black (recondite) locks (your Divine
mysteries) that you would better not ask me about them; on account of it (locks of hair) I have
become such a spiritual bankrupt that you would better not ask about it.

May no one forsake one's heart and traditional faith in the hope of fidelity (loyalty or requital of
love from the beloved); I am so much remorseful for having slipped up into it that you would
better not ask about it.

For the sake of one draught (of gnostic wine) which does no harm to anyone (i.e. to the witless,
foolish critics, the pharisaical abstinents), I suffered so much harassment that you would better
not ask me about it.

I had always been tempted by my desire to take to seclusion and seek tranquility, but that stormy
daffodil-like eye (of my perfect master) takes me by such a storm that you better not ask me
about it.

O cautious, prudent abstinent! Pass by me quietly, safe and sound, for that (gnostic) wine carries
away the heart and traditional faith from one's hand in such a manner that you better not ask
about it.

I told him (my perfect master): "I will ask the dome of the sphere (which is all-knowing) about
the existing state of affairs (regarding your attitude towards me)"; he replied, "I will draw and
drag it inside the bend of my bat in such a manner that you would better not ask about it."

And when I asked him, "Wherefore, and for whom have you loosened the locks of your hair so
spitefully?" he replied, "O Hafiz! It is a long tale; I adjure you in the name of the holy Koran that
you would better not ask me about it." (That is, I have spread my hair all over, in order to redeem
the entire humanity.)

I YRIC 353 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O reader! I have endured so much pain of love, that you better not ask me about it; I have
savoured such a bane (misery and distress) of separation (from the beloved master), that you
would better not ask me about it.

I have wandered about (in search of the perfect master) a good deal and, at long last, I have
chosen such a heart-ravisher that you would better not ask me about him.

In the ardent desire for the dust of his (master's) door, tears flow from my eyes in such a wise
that you better not ask me about it.

In the cottage of my beggary, O master, without you, have endured such afflictions, that you
would better not ask me about it!

275
O friend! Yesterday, with my own ears, I heard such words from his mouth that you better not
ask me about them.

O comrade! Why do you bite your lips towards me asking me to stifle my feelings and not
articulate them; I have bitten such a ruby-like lip, that you better not ask me about it.

(A comrade of Hafiz now says:) "O reader! Like Hafiz the stranger (from the land of Hoot to this
Alam-i-Shahood), on the path of love, I have arrived at such a spot (higher spiritual region) that
you would better not ask me about it.

LYRIC 354 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O reader! In my conscience, there is room for none save for the beloved (master);
give away both the worlds (this phenomenal world and paradise) to my foe, for as for me, my
beloved (friend, master) will do (i.e. poor is the master-less or nigura, master of the whole
world ; the two worlds in purchase of a beloved master is gain). If my swarthy beloved (wheat
hued) were to incline towards me to the extent of half-a-barley, both the worlds would appear to
my eyes like a grain of lentil. O master! You move about (here and there) like the (burning)
candle, and a whole throng hems around you (jostle), in front and at the back (i.e. they are landed
in a state of perplexity, hem and haw, hesitating to speak and to make a decision) ; no, I erred,
the burning candle (the perfectly manifest, glowing master) has no hem and haw (i.e. a perfect
master does not make anyone hem and haw about his glory ; his impact is immediate and
lasting). He who changes the reins from you, seared of your sword (your sharp spiritual impulse)
is an ignoramus ; it is just like the fly which is not wholly familiar with the savour of candy (and
averts from it). There was a time when my heart used to feel tempted to look at all sorts of things
; but since the moment I have beheld you, O lovely master, I have not 'been tempted to sight
anything save to have your glimpses. If men think of the police patrol in the night (to act as
watch and ward of their riches), I am such a man 1 hat my image (of the perfect master) cannot
even be detected (let alone watched and guarded) by any police patrol (i.e. when I contemplate in
the night, nobody can even make a guess of what I am meditating on). O beloved (master)! By
the flood or my tears, your lane has become like a swelling river, and I fear lest these adversaries
of yours, all of them light-weights (incompetent, despicable, insignificant and unimportant)
should come to the surface (emerge) like straw (i.e. they are too shameless to be submerged in
the flood of my tears and discern the power of my love; instead they would surface like straws
and take to their taunts). O Hafiz! This path of love is too arduous for the feet of your lame,
languid corpse-like body: hence-forth sit down (somewhere on this path) lest your horse (mind)
should bite the dust (be struck) and lick the dust (completely overwhelmed and humiliated).

LYRIC 355 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O my heart! Your luck as your fellow-traveller and well-wisher is well enough; the breeze
from the garden of Shiraz is well enough to serve as your messenger for the path.

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O dervish (ascetic)! Don't embark on the journey passing through the abode of the sweet- heart
(the beloved master); for you, the spiritual stroll and the corner of the khanqah (convent) will do.

O gnostic! Sit down in the presiding seat of the (gnostic) tavern and quaff from the (gnostic) cup;
this is because for you to earn so much (spiritual) riches and rank is adequate.

Don't make an excessive demand and take things easy; this because, for you the bottle of
(gnostic) rack and a moon-like beloved is sufficient.

The sphere (i.e. the Wheel of Time) entrusts the rein of ardent desire to the hands of ignorant
people ; O gnostic, you are a man of wisdom and excellence, for you this (gnosis) is enough of a
sin (from the worldly point of view) to be pleased with!

And if some affliction lying in ambush were to launch a surprise attack on the dominion of your
heart the safe enclosure around the abode of the gnoctic master (pir-i-mughaan) is enough of a
shelter.

Your love and attraction for the land of your beloved (i.e. for Hoot which is your domicile and
the abode of your beloved master) and your primeval contract with your longtime friend
(contract of alast man made with the Lord) is a sufficient excuse for you for your not keeping
company of the wayfarers.

O striver! Don't get used to taking obligation (favour) of others, for in both the worlds,
acquiescence to God's will and the reward from the king (the perfect master) is sufficient for you.

O Hafiz! There is no need for you for any other stipend; the midnightly supplication
(contemplation and meditation) and the morning stipend (morning grace of the master that
follows the nightly meditation) will do for you.

LYRIC 356 (11 VERSES)

1-11. From this rose-garden of the phenomenal world, for me, a beloved (master) with rosy
cheeks (spiritually fragrant and beauteous as the rose) is enough ; from this orchard, for us to
receive the shadow (inseparable companionship) of that walking cypress (the tall, majestic,
straightforward and righteous perfect master) is sufficient.

May the company of the fraudulent, the wily and the guileful remain far from me; of all the
worldly heavies (crude, cruel and offensive, villainous and violent that weigh down a person),
for me the prodigious (gnostic) cup (that lifts the burden of flesh and lust off my heart) is
enough.

They (the gods) award the celestial mansion as a recompense for (righteous) practice ; in as
much as the gnostics are ecstatic and beggars (lovers of the perfect master), for us the temple of
fire-worship (i.e. the gnostic tavern) is adequate.

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O spiritual striver! Sit down on the bank of the (flowing) brook, and (by the swift current of the
water coming into it and going out of it) watch the procession of life; in relation to this fleeting
world, this clue is sufficient.

Notice the cash (i.e. the profit and the real worth of the gains) of the bazaar of this (fleshly,
fleeting world) and perceive the losses and damages caused by this world; if this profit and this
loss is not adequate (to refrain you from indulgence in this fleshly bazaar), for us (the gnostics),
it is enough.

Our (beloved master) is with us; where is the need for us to seek more? the wealth of the
company of that lover of our soul is sufficient for us.

O lovely master! For the sake of God, don't despatch us from your door to paradise, for in
exchange for space and time (within which even the paradise is confined) for' us your lane
(unbounded by space and time) is enough.

In our mind, there is no desire for anything save the desire for union with you; in the trade of
riches of both the worlds, for us the trade for the wealth of your love is sufficient.

The seclusion (privacy) of love for union with him which I have sought for a whole life (i.e.
throughout my life), has come to my hand (has become accessible to me), and this achievement,
out of both the worlds, is adequate for me.

(O Lord!) Bestow the garden and the theatre of sensual pleasures to the •rulers of (worldly)
kingdoms; as for us (the gnostics), we are faqirs (fe+qaf+ye+re, i.e. faqah or fasting+qanaat or
content ment+yad-i-llahi or remembrance of God+riyazat or penance) and we are beggars
(lovers) ; for us the street of our idols (beloved saints) is adequate.

O Hafiz! to grudge the way of Divine dispensation (kismet) is an act of injustice; for us, smooth
and unruffled nature as that of limpid water and spontaneous lyrics of love (ghazalha) are
enough.

LYRIC 357 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O lovely master! If you are an affectionate, loving then, stick to your plighted word, and
remain my comrade in the cave (hujra, sheltered place, symbol of hardship and tension), in the
bath-house (moments of relaxation and happiness), and in the rose-garden (gnostic love-play).

Don't hand over the folds of your scattered locks of hair to the wind (i.e. don't make your locks
of hair windblown, to look as though it has been dishe-velled by the wind. Don't put the wind up
for they alarm and frighten us); don't say: "Let it be decreed that the temper of the lovers remains
distracted" (i.e. O master! Your gnostic mysteries are already very tangle:' and recondite; don't
make them more mysterious and more difficult for your lovers to unravel).

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O spiritual striver! If you long for Khizar to be your comrade (literally, sitting companion), then
like the Water of Life, remain hidden from the (greedy, lustful) eye of Alexander (i.e. shun the
worldlings, the world's hoity-toity and toffee-nosed).

It is not for any and every fowl to sing the subtle melodious notes that sustain love ; come and
become the new rose (ardent disciple of the master) for that bulbul who sings melodies of love
(mohabbat ke liye kuchh khaas dil makhsoos hote hain; yeh wo naghma hai jo har saaz par
gaaya nahin jaata "For love special hearts are chosen; it is that lyric which cannot be set to every
musical instrument").

O spiritual seeker! For the sake of the Lord, give up the way of servile service and the degraded
style of thraldom (to the bloated, swanky, overbearing, vainglorious cockalorum); come and
become (the spiritual) sultan (saint).

O lovely master! Don't ever unsheathe your sword on the pigeon that has taken shelter in the
sanctuary of the enclosed compound of your abode (where hunting and killing of animals is
forbidden); indeed, you ought to reel remorse for what you did to my (innocent) heart.

O master! You are the candle of the galaxy of stars (anjuman, congregation of gnostic stars);
become uniform in respect of the word and heart (i.e. make your lovers articulate only the Great
Name and make them homogeneous of heart); notice the image of the endeavour (not the result)
of the moth (all set to incinerate himself on your flame) and laugh away the foibles of your
lovers.

The perfection of ravishment of heart and beauty lies in the game of amorous looks; in respect of
the style of coyness, become the one among the coys of the world.

O Hafiz! Hold your peace and don't lament over the inequity of your beloved master, for who
ever asked you to fall head over heels in love (all absorbing love or hairat) with a beauteous
countenance?

LYRIC 358 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O my heart! Become the slave of the king of the world (the living master, the
sovereign 01' the age) so that you too could become the king (saint); become riveted to the
shadow of the Lord (i.e. make the Lord's grace as your inseparable support and companion). If
there are a thousand fellows alienated (exoterics excluded from the privacy of the righteous), and
if they have taken shelter of the hypocrites from end to end, they are not purchased in exchange
of a barley. [Allusion to those of Ali's (the Prophet's son-in-law), supporters, who had turned
hostile to him and to the cause or the prophet and waged war against him.] Since, on the Day of
Judgment, Ahmad (Mohammed) would be my intercessor, then declare that even if this (fleshly)
body of mine is replete with sins, it doesn't matter in the least, for Ali is my intercessor. He who
has not made friends with Ali (the Prophet's disciple-in-chief), he is an infidel, albeit he may be

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world's choicest abstinent and the sheikh or the (gnostic) way. O Ali! Today I am (spiritually)
live on account of your love; tomorrow (on the Day of Judgment), by the souls of the (twelve)
imams: you must be my witness. [The twelve imam's from the house of Mohammed were (I) Ali
Karm Allah, (2) Imam Hassan, (3) Imam Hussain, (4) Imam Zeenul-Aabdeen, (5) Imam Baqar,
(6) Imam Jaafar Saadiq, (7) Imam Musa Kaazim, (8) Imam Raza, (9) Imam Mohammed Naqi,
(10) Imam Mohammed Taqi, (l l) Imam Hassan Askari, and (12) Imam Mehdi. In the Bektash
order or Sufis, the dress is the white cloak and the cap is made of twelve bits of cloth,
corresponding to these twelve imams.] O seeker! Kiss the grave of the eighth Imam of Faith,
Raza, by your soul, and take shelter on the gate of that sanctuary. Your hand does no reach the
bough (of sages and saints) in order that you may glean a rose from the bough (of the rose tree),
for once, therefore, become the grass (humble) below the bough of that rose-tree. That abstinent
who is a seeker of righteousness and contentment (taqwa) is a Godman, irrespective of whether
he is clad in white or in black (i.e. it is not the colour of garment that matters; what matters in
gnosis is your quest for piety, righteousness, love for the master, contentment and sincerity). O
Hafiz! Make the way of bondsmanship of (obeisance to) the king (the perfect saint) as your
occupation, and then on the path of gnosis walk like a valiant wayfarer.

LYRIC 359 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O you, my beloved (master)! All your forms and aspects arc attractive and agreeable and all
the places that you may be in are beautiful; with your sugar-chewing coyness (i.e. your amorous
and provocative looks) my heart is pleased and joyous.

Your being (wajood) like the loveliness of the rose, is delicate and fine; like the cypress of the
orchard, you are from top to bottom, beauty in person.

On account of you, the rose-garden of my phantasmagoria (shifting medley of real or imagined

figures as in a dream) is full of patterns of beautiful engravings and designs, as also from your
locks, fragrant as jasmine, the core of my heart is refreshed (i.e. when I reflect on your spiritual
beauty and gnostic mystery, I am visited by all sorts of beautiful visions and I become vivified).

The style of your modesty is sweet (captivating) and your contours and beauty-spots tell
mellifluous tales (of gnosis). Your eyes and' eyebrows confer luster on those who behold you,
and your tall stature is pleasing to the eye.

O master! I give away my life before your beauteous eyes which induce love sickness; this
because that love sickness is the cure of my pain induced by your beauteous visage.

O master! On the path of love where there is no escape from the flood of self-effacement (sail-i-
fana), keep my heart in the right place with the help of my love for you.

Although in the desolate expanse of (gnostic) quest, there are hazards from all sides, Hafiz, who
has lost his heart to you, takes all these risks and perils in his stride.

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LYRIC 360 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O lovely master! Come again (i.e. return), and become the companion of my afflicted heart
with all your heart, and become the confidant of the hidden secrets of this man (i.e. me) who is
consumed (by the fire of your love).

From the cellar of the (gnostic) wine which they sell (proffer) in the tavern of love, give me two
or three cups even if it is the month of Ramadhan.

O gnostic quester (aarif-i-salik) when you have set fire to your woollen mantle (khirqa) (for the
sake of gnosis), endeavour and become the head of the circle of world's (gnostic) inebriates.

The comrade who told you that my heart is the theatre of your glory and beauty, tell him that I
am going to reach safely and he may look forward to my arrival there.

Despairing of those soul-lifting lips (i.e. master's spiritually inspiring discourses), my heart has
become blood-soaked; may that casket of love (the lover's heart) remain full of his love and
token of his grace.

O the flood of my tears! Follow up the letter (I sent to my beloved master) so that if by reading
it, sparks of anger fly in his heart, thay may be quenched (i.e. the dust of anger may not settle on
his countenance).

O abstinent! If you can lay your hand on the bottle of gnostic wine (i.e. the perfect master), the
concentrated attention of the sages of the two worlds would put you in a state of tranquility.

Hafiz who is tempted by the seven-ringed cup of Jamshed (the perfect master of the day), tell
him that all the traits of Jamshed are clearly evident in the perceiving eye of his minister, Asif
(i.e. the master's disciple-in-chief).

LYRIC 361 (8 VERSES)

1-8. If the gardener (lover of the rose, i.e. the lover of the master) desires the five-day long
company of the rose (the perfect master), he must, in the wise of bulbul, have the capacity to
endure the torture of the thorn of separation.

O my heart! Don't lament over the distraction afflicting you in the prison of his locks; when a
wise fowl falls into the trap (of the hunter) he must persevere steadfastly (tahmmul).

If notwithstanding such beauteous locks of hair and such a glorious visage (as that of my beloved
lover who needs catalonian jasmine (yaasmeen) and the curly locks of liliaceous plant, to such a
one the game of amorous looks is forbidden (haraam).

What has the gnostic inebriate who is, in sooth, the incinerator of the (phenomenal, fleshly)
world to do with the considerations of expediency (masleht-beenee)? The task which needs

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strategy (tadbeer) and go-slow tactics (tahmnul) is not the concern of love and gnosis; (on the
contrary,) it is statecraft.

Reliance on one's righteousness and discursive reason amounts to infidelity in the path of gnosis;
even if the gnostic wayfarer has a hundred skills (products of dianoetic intellect), he must ever
place reliance on tawakkul (total reliance on the will of the Lord and His plenipotentiary on the
earth).

If the crazy heart of the lover needs that lock master of the age) and that curly hair (of the master,
i.e. his gnostic reconditeness), he must needs put up with the pride or modesty of that daffodil-
like inebriated eye (of the beloved master).

O cupbearer (i.e. O gnostic master)! How long this dilly-dallying (taalul) in putting the gnostic
cup circling around? When the turn of the lovers comes, continuousness of the round is a must.

Who is this Hafiz to say that he would not quaff the (gnostic) wine without listening to the Saut-
i-Sarmadi of violin (one hears in Hahoot)? Why should a miserable lover need all this
pompousness? (In other words, a lover of the master should never seek to hear the Saut-i-
Sarmadi, or to have a vision of any spiritual region; he must ever crave to be seated at the feet of
his master for that is the highest spiritual station).

LYRIC 362 (7 VERSES)

1-7. That stony-hearted and silvery auricled idol (beloved master) has carried of my rest, stamina
and wits.

He is beauteous, smart, saucy and peri-like; he is amiable and friendly, moon-like, valiant as a
Turcoman, and puts on a cloak.

On the fire of my craze of love for him, like a pot, I ever boil over (i.e. I am ever in a state of
spiritual excitement and ecstasy).

O beloved if I grasp you closely in my embrace as your light-fitting cloak, I will feel easy and
relaxed as your loose kurta.

If my bones were to become rotten, my love for him would not be obliterated from my soul.

My heart and traditional faith, Oh yes, all my heart and the whole of traditional faith, has been
carried away by his chest (full of gnostic mysteries) and his (broad) shoulders (that lift me from
the dumps on to the heights of empyrean) ; Oh yes, by his chest (full of fortitude) and by his
shoulders (my pillar of support), and by his chest (full of secrets of gnostic ascension) and by his
shoulders (my ladder of gnostic ascension).

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O Hafiz! His sweet lips (his sweet discourses) are the medicinal drug for you (i.e. for your body
and mind; Oh yes, his sweet lips (that are a lesson in Divine love) are the medicinal drug for you
(for your soul).

LYRIC 363 (8 VERSES)

1-8. When strife and struggle (strenuous exertion and endeavour, jadd-o-jehad) don't
come good (i.e. don't accomplish anything), it is better to abandon your expedient devices to the
care of the Creator. If a dervish were to become truly aware of the mystery of contentment
(qanaat), he would never bow his head in submission to the kingship of the whole world. If you
desire not to be bent by differences and dissensions, then don't chase the make-weight that is
placed on one pan of the balance to balance the other (i.e. remain steadfast in truth where there is
a battle raging between vice and virtue, flesh and faith inside of your heart). The craftiness of the
duplicitous abstinent has torn into my soul fetch the (gnostic) cup and apply the (soothing) balm
(of gnostic wine) on my wounded heart. O miserable seeker! Quaff the (gnostic) wine (which is
your destined portion), for the pre-eternal dispenser has allotted the potions of antidote and
poison [i.e. there are some (the vile worldlings and the cunning abstinents) who bite others like
venomous serpents, and there are others (saints and sages) who are their antidote and apply the
healing balm on the wounds of the gnostics. They (wily and guileful abstinents and the adherents
of sharia and formal religion) regard chicanery to be lawful, and look down upon the cup of (the
gnostic) wine to be forbidden; gnosis and the community of lovers are indeed wonderful in their
own ways, and the sharia and blind adherence to the letter of religious laws are queerish
(suspicious, dubious and shady) in their own ways. O lovely master! If in respect of ravishment
of heart, you have come on top, what is there to wonder about it? for the radiance of your beauty
existed before the foundations of this (phenomenal) world were laid. Your narrow mouth (which
articulate words few and far between) is targeting my soul; of your hard thinking heart, I feel a
threat to my life (i.e. do not quite know what you are thinking, what you will say, and when and
what you will do).

LYRIC 364 (7 VERSES)

1-7. In the season of red anemone (the age when the perfect master is manifest), hold the
(gnostic) cup (i.e. take to Sultan-al-Azkar) and become guileless (ingenuous); along with the
fragrance of the rose (the perfect master), for a while become the comrade zephyr (master's
Divine impulse).

I don't enjoin you to drink (the gnostic wine) all the year round; quaff the (gnostic) wine for three
months (out of twelve months), and for nine months become puritanical (paarsa), (i.e. for six
hours a day, or one-fourth of a day, practise Sultan-al-Azkar, and for the remaining eighteen
hours or three-fourth of a day, try to practise righteousness while discharging your wildly
obligations).

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When your master, who is the quester of love, entrusts you to the care of (gnostic) wine (i.e.
when he Initiates you in the gnostic discipline of Sultan-al-Azkar), drink it (i.e. practise Sultan-
al-Azkar) in expectation of the compassion of God.

If you long to reach the core of the mystery of the Invisible Realm, like Jamshed, come here and
become the close comrade of the seven-ringed cup (typical of the seven heavens, the seven
planets etc.) of Jamshed (i.e. get close to the perfect master in whose heart you can see the
reflection of the entire cosmos).

Although, the major business of this (fleshly) world is to tie man in knots like the buds (to
completely confuse, bewilder, confound and delude in order to make him avidya-grast), you
ought to become the unraveller of the knot (of bewilderment, nescience and delusion).

(In this world,) don't look for fidelity (Faith and loyalty) from any- one; but if you don't give ear
to what I say, then in your vain search, look for simurgh (perfect saint) and alchemy or elixir of
life, (both of which are like el Dorado and utopia).

O Hafiz! Don't seek obeisance from those alien (to gnosis); but live closely together with the
(gnostic) inebriates who are your own comrades.

LYRIC 365 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O comrade! When the zephyr disheveled his (i.e. masters) ambergris-scattering locks of
hair, the soul of every distraught who soaked in that zephyr (i.e. became saturated with it)
became vivified.

Where is that comrade before whom I could present an analysis of the anguish and explain to
him what- torment my heart has been enduring during the days of separation from him?

The stamp of heading on the tearful letter of my loyalty which the morning zephyr carried to my
beloved master (i.e. the message of my constant love which I conveyed to my master through my
tearful spiritual morning contemplation) was from the blood of my eyes. O master!

The Wheel of Time has made your glorious visage in the image of the petals of the rose, but
those petals are hidden in the bud with their sense of shame at your glorious visage (i.e. if the
rose-petals are hidden in the bud, it is only because they feel so small and insignificant in relation
to your beauteous and fragrant face).

I wandered about a good deal but the end of the path of love did not appear in sight. Good
gracious! This road (of love) has no end.

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 In quest for the glorious beauty of Kaaba (i.e. the beloved master of the age), in the vast desolate
expanse of which the soul of the hearty lovers has burnt out, the Kaaba (i.e. the master) would
itself intercede on behalf of these wayfarers (lovers).

O Master! See how my eye is revealing the secret of my love you before my comrades, albeit my
heart was always hiding that secret from anyone other than you.

For that broke of the abode of affliction (bail-ui-hazan, i.e. Jacob who had gambled away
everything in (lie game of love. For Joseph), who would fetch the trace of the Joseph of my heart
(i.e. my darling master) from his (master's) chin-pit (i.e. the only healing balm for my broken
heart lies in the chin-pit of the beauteous face of my beloved).

As for me, I will firmly grasp my master's lock of hair (i.e. his complicated Divine mystery) and
will hand it over to my khwaja (my master); it is on the cards that he may get me justice from
the cruelty I have suffered at the hands of his lock of hair (i.e. I will appeal to my beloved
master to relieve me from the injustice which his own mysteriousness is inflicting upon me).

Early in the morning, on the fence of the orchard (master's congregation) I was hearing, through
the bulbul's warbling, the voice of Hafiz, his (i.e. master's) mellifluous singer of love lyrics.

LYRIC 366 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O master! When I drink from your ruby-like cup (i.e. When I hear your discourses and
perceive your form), I become beside myself (become overwhelmed); when I behold your
intoxicating eye, my ears don't remain in place (i.e. I can hear nothing ; I become lost). I am your
thrall, while you are free from any obligation unto me (i.e. you are free to use me as your thrall
for anything you deem fit); sell mc off to the one who sells cups for your tavern (so that I could
be of some use to you, indirectly though, i.e. if I cannot serve you directly, use me as a slave of
your slaves, dasa-nu-das). In the hope that I may obtain a cupful of (gnostic) wine, I go about
lifting and carrying the pitchers-of the inebriate on my shoulders. O master! Don't ask me to hold
my tongue and not breathe a word (i.e. hold my peace), for in the orchard (your congregation),
the bulbul (lover of the rose) cannot be expected to remain quiet (and not warble). If I think of
looking for your trace, where is the patience and perseverance (required for that quest)? If I think
of speaking of your words and activities; where is the stamina and sense required for it? O
master! Don't serve the mellowed (gnostic) wine to those whose hearts are frozen (on the
spiritual track), for this mellowed (gnostic) wine (i.e. recondite gnostic mystery) is a furious fire,
and the spiritually mellowed (mature gnostics) are on the boil (in a state of ecstasy and fully fit to
stand that furious fire). Even the celestial rarity cannot attain to that flavour which one tastes
when the beloved drinks the (gnostic) wine (i.e. when the master in his ecstasy provokes you to
take gnostic meditation) and you say, "O yes! Please quaff" (i.e. you provoke him so as to make
him provoke you). When He (God) was investing me with the robe of honour of the sultan of

285
ardent love (ishq), He struck the note, "O Hafiz! Hold your peace" (i.e. the genuine lover is
enjoined to become silent and refrain from talking about the mysteries of love).

LYRIC 367 (9 VERSES)

1-9.Hail Shiraz and its peerless dignity and grandeur (wazeh)! O Lord! Save it from decay and
decline (zawaal).

O Ruknabaad! May you be the recipient of a hundred beatitudes from the almighty Lord (i.e.
may it never become ruined and desolate) for its limpid water (zulaal) confers the
everlastingness or khidr (the perennial master).

As between Jaafarabad and Musallah (the famous idgah of Shiraz which was a delightful
campus), the northern wind mixes up ambergris with the atmosphere.

O seeker! Come to Shiraz in quest of the favour of Gabriel (i.e. man of God, the Spirit of Truth
or Satt Purush), from those of its residents who are men of spiritual perfection and excellence.

The beauteous (saints and sages) or the place (by their mellifluous conversation) put the
Egyptian candy to shame, and nobody, for this reason, even mentions there the name of Egyptian
candy.
O zephyr! What news do you have about that saucy, enraptured, inebriate (i.e. my perfect
master)? How is he?

For the sake of God, don't rouse me from that sweet sleep (which to the worldlings looks like
sleep but which is a state in which one is absolutely awake, conscious of all that was, is and will
be in the entire cosmos), for in that state I am in the enthralling union with his beauteous image.

If that lovely youth (literally, son, i.e. my sweet, beloved master) were even to shed my blood, O
my heart, deem it to be lawful, for in doing so he would have only fulfilled the obligation he
owned to his mother whom he suckled.

Hafiz! When you felt threatened by the risk of his separation from you, why did you not express
gratitude for the days of union with him? (for that thankfulness could have averted the danger of
separation.)

LYRIC 368 (10 VERSES)

1-10. During the reign of the king who is the pardoner of errors, and who covers up the
transgressors (i.e. during the era of the perfect master who forgives you your sins and shuts his
eye to your faults and flaws), Hafiz has become the tosspot from the ewer (gnostic wine) and the

286
mufti (the expert in and adviser on the laws of the Koran) has become the bibber from the cup
(i.e. has become besotted).

Since the day he noticed that even the Superintendent of Public Morals goes about with the
pitcher of wine on his shoulders, the Sufi left the corner of the prayer-house (mosque) and came
down to sit at the feet of the (gnostic) wine pitcher (i.e. at the feet of the gnostic master).

One day in the morning hours I raised before the dealer of (gnostic) wine (i.e. the perfect master)
the issue of the sheikh, the Qazi and the Jews carousing merrily in secret (i.e. freely indulging in
sensual pleasures).

He (the master) replied: "Although you know it all, it is something better left unsaid (for that
would kick up a row); hold your tongue and let this matter remain under the veil of secrecy, and
meanwhile quaff the (gnostic) wine.

O cupbearer (the advanced gnostic)! The springtide is fast approaching and the (gnostic) cup (the
perfect master) is no more! Think of doing something, for the blood of my heart from the fire of
grief (of separation from the master) is on the boil (i.e. I am seething in discontent at separation
from .my master).

Presently, there is the ardent passion of love (ishq), there is (spiritual) poverty (muflisi); here is
youthfulness (zap and pep for gnosis, jawani), and here is the newly arrived springtide
(naubahar)—here are all the ingredients or an atmosphere conducive to lapses and errors. O
master! Accept my excuse and cover up my transgression by the long skirt of your compassion.

O you who is a king both in form and in essence (soorat-o-maani), the like of whose form no eye
has ever seen, and of the like of whose Word no ear has ever heard !

Live for such a long time that your youthful destiny may never age and you may never take to
rough jacket (gud-dee) and you may, yourself, take from the Wheel of Time the blue mantle in
which you may continue to appear (like the heir and successor of an old Sultan).

How long will you indulge in the wagging of your tongue like a candle? O lover! Hold your
peace, for the flying message of fulfilment of your desire (literally, moth or parwaana) has
reached (i.e. your beloved master has become manifest and would soon appear as a shining
candle on the flame of which you can burn like a moth).

Last night, from the Invisible the voice whispered into the ear of my heart (i.e. my inner ear): "O
Hafiz! Don't brood morbidly and in anguish; get up and quaff the (gnostic) wine."

LYRIC 369 (9 VERSES)

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1-9. My heart has become a runaway (running after its prey, the object of its desire, that is the
loving master) and look at this me who is an ignorant dervish (unaware of what my heart is
doing); I am eating my heart out, brooding as to what has happened to that overwrought,
distracted hunter (i.e. my heart).

Like the willow, I am trembling in fear and anxiety about my traditional faith, for my heart has
gone into the hands of an iconoclast whose religion is to attack established and traditional
concepts, laws, principles and practices, and whose eyebrows are like a bow (from which he
darts his lethal shafts on the traditionalists, the conformists and the pharisaics).

In my heart, I am cooking up the tale of the bold courage, capacity and sweep of the sea (of
love), and I am humming and hawing; I hesitate in speaking and in guessing as to what this drop
(heart of mine), given to thinking of the impossible, has in its head.

In the street of the (gnostic) tavern (congregation) I will go weeping and with my head hanging
in shame, at the present poor state of my (gnostic) capital.

O dervish! Don't squabble over small matters, relating to this despicable world, for here neither
the life of a khidr is lasting nor the empire of an Alexander.

I am indeed proud of my beloved's (i.e. master's) saucy and tranquillizing eyelashes from the
heat of whose sting, the Water of Life boils over.

If the physicians (saints and sages) were to place their hands on my wounded heart in order to
diagnose my ailment, from their sleeves, thousands of drops of blood (of my heart) would trickle.

O my heart! You are a thrall (of that king of gnosis, the perfect master), and don't grouse and
grumble against the king, for to nurse a grudge about getting more or less (from the king) is not
in accordance with the proviso of ardent passion of love (ishq).

O Hafiz! The hand of every beggar (lover) does not have access to Chat back (i.e. not every lover
can hope to receive spiritual backing of the perfect master); in order to attain to his backing,
obtain a treasure far more ambitious and richer than that of Korah (i.e. obtain the spiritual
treasure that can be earned only through Sultan-al-Azkar, in order to attain access to the backing
of the perfect master).

LYRIC 370 (9 VERSES)

1-9. Yesterday, a sharp-witted knower of mysteries secretly told me: "The mystery of the
(gnostic) wine-dealer (perfect master) cannot be kept hidden from you.
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That mystery is that you ought to take on an easy work, for by its nature, the world seizes on the
strenuous endeavour in its grip very firmly" (i.e. the world goes hard with one who exerts hard.
So to say, take the easy way or Sahaj Marg of love from the master of the age, and the Sultan-al-
Azkar; if you adhere to the traditional path of ascetics, it would be extremely difficult for you to
be released from the bondg of subtle body and mind. You will come up against the conjuring
tricks of Kal-Satan. Through the path of love for the beloved master and taking to the Great
Name he reveals, the road to your redemption would become easy).

Then he (the Invisible Voice) gave me such a cupful (of gnostic wine) that by its radiance Venue
began to dance in joy and playing upon the sarangi (Saut-i-Sarmadi in Hahoot) she (Venus)
spoke to me: "O yes! Quaff the (gnostic) wine (i.e. practise Sultan-al- Azkar)."

O seeker! So long as you don't become well-acquainted with this screen (of delusion that hides
the supreme reality of the "inarticulate sound" or anhat shabd, and keeps you deaf to the Saut-i-
Sarmadi), you will not be able to tear it down and will not be able to have a scent of that which
lies behind that screen ; the ears of the one who is unaware of Reality cannot be kept to the
ground where the Invisible angel delivers the (divine) message (the Word).

In the sealed, sacred enclosure (hareem) of ardent passion of love, one cannot live with a
(corporeal) word or hear the sound of (corporeal) breath, for that is a level where all your limbs
and organs have to become all ears (very attentive and listening .carefully to the Saut-i-Sarmadi)
and all eyes (acutely vigilant and observant of the Supreme Reality of the master and God).

On the floor (bisaut) of those who know the recondite gnostic points, self-advertisement is not
the norm (of standard behaviour and conduct); O sharpwitted, either talk with understanding (of
what you are talking) or hold your peace!

Bring to bear (on gnosis) smiling lips with a wounded heart, like the cup of red wine (that is both
smiling and is red with burning heat); not a heart which, with one stroke inflicted on it (by the
arrow of the beloved master's eye), begins to seethe in excitement like the reed (the organ pipe
that sounds by means of a reed).

O son! Listen to my counsel. Don! take umbrage for the sake of the (fleshly) world (it is not
worth your resentment, for it is, by nature, unfaithful and shameless); I have told you a word
precious as a pearl if you can, prick up your ears to it.

O cupbearer (advanced gnostic)! Give me a cupful of gnostic wine (i.e. let us talk of recondite
gnostic mysteries), for the lapses of Hafiz committed during the state of ecstasy have been
pardoned by that king (the perfect living master) who is the pardoner of transgressions, who
covers up the lapses and who was born in the constellation of Saturn and Jupiter (sahab qaraan,
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one who carefully deliberates on things, who follows the right course, who is philosophical and
gnostic by temper).

Lyric 371 (9 Verses)

1-9. In the small hours (pre-dawn meditation), from the side of the Invisible, came the glad
tidings into my ears: "This is the era of the valiant king (the perfect master), and quaff the
(gnostic) wine fearlessly and to your heart's content and with all your heart.

That time is past when the players of the game of amorous looks (i.e. the lovers of gnosis) used
to walk on the fringes, with hundreds of words in their mouth but with lips sealed tight.

In accompaniment of violin (sound of Hahoot) we will recite (gnostic) tales (experiences), by

concealing which, the kettle of our chest used to be on the boil.

Our quaffing the (gnostic) wine in secrecy was caused by the fear of the Superintendent of Public
Morals; before the beloved (master) we now quaff the gnostic wine on the note of "O beloved, O
(like the pianist).

That imam of the city who used to wander about with his traditional prayer-mat on his shoulders,
they (the Gnostics) were carrying him from the (gnostic) tavern, dead drunk, on their shoulders
(i.e. all his traditional reserve from gnosis had vanished, and he became spiritually besotted).

O my heart! On the path of deliverance (from fleshly realm)l give you sound guidance: "Don't
ever give yourself airs on false pretences; and don't advertise your abstinence (which would
show you in your true colours of a pharisaic).

The enlightened counsel of (the perfect master) is the theatre of the beams of Divine
luminescence; if you want closeness with it, endeavour for the purity of your motive and
intention (niyat, i.e. your spiritual motive must correspond with your spiritual intention and your
conduct must be in harmony with them).

Don't give any pabulum to your conscience save the adulation of his Divine splendour (jalaal or
mysterium tremendum), for the ear of his heart is the knower of the message from the Invisible
angel.

The subtleties or what is expedient for this (phenomenal) realm (at a particular period of time)
are known only to the khusroes (the perfect saints who are the kings of the cosmos; they alone
can see the tamasha of this world; vide Sar Buchan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 76) ; O Hafiz,
you are only a beggar (lover of the- master) sitting in a secluded corner (of the gnostic tavern or
master's congregation) ; don't raise a ruckus!
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Lyric 372 (8 Verses)

1-8. I want such an acidic (gnostic) wine which can hurl the devil in me (into captivity) and
which can fling me into gnosis (i.e. which can enable me to apply myself diligently and with
vigour to gnostic practices of Sultan-al-Azkar) so that for a while I may get respite from the din
and dirt (shor-o-shar) of this (fleshly) world.

O comrade! Fetch to me the gnostic wine for none can rest in safety from the chicanery of the
sphere (Wheel of Time) devised by the fun and frolic of Venus, playing upon violin and by his
armed commander, Mars (the god of war).

Throw away the hunting noose or Behram (the Iraqi king fond of hunting onagers), and pick up
the (seven-ringed golden) cup of Jamshed (i.e. take to gnosis) for in this forest (of gnosis) there
is neither Behram nor his onager.

To cast a kindly eye on dervishes is not contrary to the norms of greatness and exaltation;
notwithstanding his royal grandeur and dignity, the eyes of Solomon were fastened even on the
ants (i.e. Solomon, notwithstanding his regality, cared for and protected the smallest creatures in
his dominion).

O seeker! Come here in order that I may show you up the secret of this (phenomenal, fleeting,
perishable) world, provided that you do not expose this secret to the blind-hearted (ignoramus
pedestrians) and men of crooked disposition and squinty (i.e. who see the one as two).

From the cup of emerald (which turns the serpent blind if it fixes its eyes on it), I quaff the
(gnostic) wine red as ruby; for the pharisaic abstinent is the serpent (Satan) of the day, and by
that cup of emerald, I turn him blind.

The dining-table of this age (which sustains the spiteful and the vindictive) cannot provide to you
the honey of respite and rest ; by the sourish and pungent (false and fraudulent) savour of the
food from that table, wash down your taste (fondness) for assuming a false identity (imitating
someone, counterfeit) out of greed and gluttony.

The bow of the eyebrows of my beloved (master) does not turn back its head from Hafiz (i.e. it is
constantly attacking Hafiz with its arrows of love), although the sight of the prowess of his arms
makes me laugh (for he is, as it were, employing a machine gun to kill a fly).

Lyric 373 (8 Verses)

1-8. O (pharisaical) Sufi! Be merciful to the thorn of this embellished khirqa (mantle) of yours
(i.e. abandon fraud and duplicity) and glean a rose (a gnostic master), surrender with pleasure,
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this dry (devoid of warmth, cunning, dull, meaningless and insipid) abstinence to the enthralling
(gnostic) wine.

Lay down your bragging and swanking, your braggadocio and fanfaronade, your vainglorious
bluster of miracles and your false pretences on the path that leads to the Saut-i-Sarmadi of violin
(Hahoot); give away your rosary (symbol of chicanery and fraud) and your shawl (which is
designed to cover up your lust and lechery) to the (gnostic) wine (i.e. the perfect master) and the
quaffers of that wine (the gnostic seekers).

That irksome abstinence which weighs down the spirit and which the (gnostic) cupbearer and the
beloved (gnostic master) don't buy (i.e. which they don't accept as true), surrender it gracefully to
the zephyr of spring (the beloved master) in full view of the circle of the orchard (openly, in the
gnostic congregation).

O Emir of (gnostic) lovers (God)! The red, ruby-like (gnostic) wine (served by my beloved
master) has waylaid me (like a brigand, has looted and plundered my traditional faith, my rest
and tranquility; has made me dead to my flesh); forgive his chin-pit, my blood and don't charge
blood-money for it.

O Lord! In the season of the blooming rose (a master in full bloom) forgive the sins of this
bondsman, and forget and forgive the dirty episodes I authored under the protecting shadow of
that cypress like master, standing on the edge of the water-stream (the gnostic congregation).

O you (gnostic seeker) who has swam to the shore of his (spiritual) object, crossing through the
stormy sea of love (and gnosis)! Confer upon this dust-licking me a drop from that sea.

In gratefulness for the fact that the evil eye has remained averted from you, intercede for us with
God for the grace of His forgiveness and absolution.

O cupbearer (i.e. disciple-in-chief of the perfect master)! When the king (the beloved master)
drinks the morning wine (i.e. when he engages in Sultan-al-Azkar), solicit him to bestow the
golden cup (of gnosis) to Hafiz who remains wide awake the whole night (engrossed in gnostic
meditation).

Lyric 374 (10 Verses)

1-10. All that the bulbul (the gnostic lover) contemplates is that the rose (the master) has become
his beloved, while the rose is pondering over how to bring his coyness (ishwa) to bear upon this
matter.

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O my heart-ravisher! Remember that the art of ravishment of heart is not conferred merely to kill
the lover (by the arrows of the true beloved your provocative looks, your modesty and pride);
(master) is he who feels concerned about the afflictions of his bondsman (his lover).

The occasion demands that the blood of the ruby (the perfect master) be on the boil, on account
of the deception, fraud, and misappropriation (taghaban) practised by a potsherd (the charlatan,
the gnostic quack, the false master, khazaf) which is making his bazaar (of gnosis) dull.

It is by the grace and favour of the rose (i.e. the beloved master), that the bulbul (the lover) has
learnt the art of warbling plaintively; otherwise, all his affirmations of love and his love lyrics
were not embedded in his beak (i.e. the lover; gnostic grace of the master favoured the loving
disciple because he had some gnostic samskaras or entitlement, latent in his subconscious and
unconscious self, but they could not become kinetic at all without the grace and favour of the
master).

That (gnostic) wayfarer who is accompanied by a hundred caravans of the heart (i.e. who is ever
assailed by an army of thoughts and reflections doubts and tergiversations), wherever he may be,
may God keep him safe (from the devil's slanders, waswasa).

O wayfarer! If you manage to keep yourself off the slanders of the devil and desires (nafs-o-
hawa) without a trace of doubt, you would be able to negotiate the path to the sacred abode of
the beloved where you could behold him.
O the one that is passing through the street of my beloved (mashuqa), beware, for her wall can
break the head (i.e. my beloved is like the hedges that have eyes, and like the walls that have
ears. If you go to the beloved's street with devil's slanders and carefully hidden fraudulent
motives, the beloved would at once break through your heart, break your code and decipher all
that it is seeking to cover up).

O my heart! Although you have fallen for (become infatuated with) a tranquil company, the
sphere of ardent love must also be extremely dear (to you); don't give it up.

If the Sufi is intoxicated (puffed up) at the thought that he has cocked his hat (literally, cap) in
order to look knowing and pert, by two jerks administered by the gnostic) wine, his hat (like a
leaking boat) will- turn turtle and fall down in distraction.

‫اگر از وسوسہ نفس و ھوا دور شوی‬

LYRIC 375 (7 VERSES)

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1-7. Here, I am on the bank of a running brook (i.e. close to the master of the age), under the
shade of the willow tree (allusion to the willow pattern showing the lover and the beloved in a
boat on the river), poetic frenzy and a beauteous beloved; the sweet heart-ravisher is my close
companion, and a comely cupbearer (disciple-in-chief of; the master) with cheeks like a rose.

O the exaltation of my fortune! Of know the worth of union (with the beloved master); may this
rapturous-delight be agreeable to you, for you are living in a delightful age.

To the bride of my disposition, I am tying up with the ornament of new (deep) concentration, for
it is on the cards that from the prints of the Wheel of Time, some beautiful print (i.e. beauteous,
attractive Divine mystery) may come to hand.

O seeker! Treat the company of the beloved (master) during the night as a boon, and receive
plaudits from your cheery heart, for the heart-lifting moonlight is sprinkled all over the vista and
you are in the bed of red anemone (the embrace of the anemone-like master, reminding you of
Lahoot).

By the name of God (i.e. the Great Name)! What sort of (gnostic) wine is there in the cups of the
cupbearer's (i.e. master's) eyes for they make you unconscious (inebriated), together with full
consciousness, and induce an enthralling inebriation?

Anyone who keeps the weight of love for his beloved on his heart (i.e. whose heart is weighed
down by love for his master), tell him to put the (black) grain of seasame on the fire in order to
avert the evil eye from his business of love which is running so prosperously.

O Hafiz! Your life has been wasted in oblivion (ignorance); come alone with me to the (gnostic)
tavern, (congregation) so that the inebriated beloveds (saints and sages) may teach you some
useful art (of Sultan-al-Azkar).

LYRIC 376 (7 VERSES)

1-7. I have tried my luck in this city (Shiraz); (it is time that) bag and baggage I get out of this
vortex (vartaa).

I bite my hand a good deal (i.e. I bite my lips, indicative of suppressed chagrin, passion and
annoyance; and in this I have been biting off more than I can chew), and I sigh; like the rose (that
burns itself red) I have set fire to my body pore by pore (lakht-lakht).

Yesterday, when the bulbul (lover of the master) was warbling, how melodious was his plaintive
sound, so much so that the rose (his beloved master) from the bough of its tree (his being) had

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pricked up his ears to listen to it (i.e. the beloved master was all ears) the bulbul was plaintively
warbling:

“O heart! Persevere steadfastly, for that quick tempered beloved (master), because of his
destined mission, is sitting in a quick-silver temper (unpredictable in movement or change; that
is, he is not entirely satisfied with the response of the gnostic seekers and their lack of interest in
Sultan-al-Azkar and one never knows how will he react to this indifference).

If the wave of a disaster were to surge (rise and roll with a heavy swelling motion) to the
firmament, the gnostic does not allow it to become a wet blanket (cursing the effects of his fate,
becoming dispirited, losing gnostic enthusiasm, and casting a depressing effect on others).

If you desire to escape the passage of the hard and the soft on you (if you wish to remain free
from the opposites of the good and the bad, the hard and the soft), then cease to be soft in
adhering to your plighted word, and cease to be too hard (harsh) to be pleasant. (So to say, be
hard with yourself and firmly adhere to your covenants, especially the covenant of alast, and be
soft of speech to others).

O Hafiz! If the desire (of any person) were to be fulfilled all the time, Jamshed would not have
become removed (by death) from his throne (i.e. even such a mighty, renowned sagely king as
Solomon perished, for this whole world is perishable).

LYRIC 377 (10 VERSES)

1-4. I am being ruined, (i.e. intoxicated, from the worldly point of view) by the grief
caused by my love for that beloved of mine, wholly dedicated to the (gnostic) tavern; and on top
of it, his coyness is darting the arrow of grief (of separation) on my wounded heart (i.e. to begin
with, I am killed by his killing beauty, and on top of it, he is killing the killed me by the shaft of
his separation from me). O lovely (master)! I have become riveted with you and have carried of
my heart, from everything, everyone alien to you; and why not, for your lover (aashna)
doesn’t think------------------------than you. Cast a favourable eye on me, because for me, who has
lost his heart to you, without your grace and favour, I make no headway with any problem. O
king of beauty and mellifluousness! What will it matter to you if your ruby-like lips were to
sprinkle some salt (liveliness and pungency of discourse and discussion) on my pounded
(deprived of vitality) heart? [The reader should not make the mistake of reading this verse to
mean, "rub salt in my wounds, making my pain and shame worse". Hafiz uses the word "salt"
here to mean "flavour", ' 'smack", "strong passion of love", in the sense in which Jesus refers to
his disciples as the salt of the earth" (Matt., v, 12), and in the sense in which salt is even now
commonly put into the' coffin, for it is said that Satan hates salt because it is the symbol of
incorruption and immortality. In Numb., xviii, 19, we have the phrase: “A covenant of salt", and
in Chron., xiii, 5, "The Lord God of Israel gave the kingdom...to David...by a covenant of salt".
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In Matt., v, 13: “If the salt have lost its flavour, wherewith shall it be salted ?" In the phrase,
"grain of salt", salt means ' 'a grain of truth". The phrase "attic salt", means elegant and delicate
wit, sparkling thought well-expressed, and thus Cicero said, "Scipio omnes sale superabat", i.e.
"Scipio surpassed all in wit". See note in Verse 1 of Lyric 399, et seq.]

5-10. O master! Your inebriating eye from the ambuscade from both behind and front,
launched a surprise attack (i.e. looked at me amorously in secrecy) on me and incinerated the
granary of patience of my consumed heart (i.e. made me restless). If he (my beloved master)
were to dishevil and expose the gibbet of his lock, many Muslim would become the casualty of
that iconoclast (kafirkash). O seeker! Don't sit kneelingly and don't senselessly eat your heart
out, for by eating your heart out, your destined portion will increase or decrease not a whit. Since
this worrying is an exercise in futility, O far-sighted, don't vex your heart with this worry and
agitation. For the sake of God, enquire after the plight of your broken heart; it is not in the least
surprising if a king (a saint) were to be benignant (kind and gracious) to his subjects (literally,
dervish). O master! So long as your eyes did not inflict two thousand stings (wounds, by the
injection of poison) Hafiz did not attain to his (spiritual) mission by the antidote of your ruby-
like lips (i.e. at first you wounded me by the arrows of your love and by inflicting the torment of
separation from you ; only then, from your sweet heard your balm-like sweet discourses).
LYRIC 378 (8 VERSES)
1-8. His (my beloved master's) moon-like cheek is an amalgam of beauty and grace, but then it is
devoid of love and faithfulness. O Lord! Bestow these upon him (so that he may requit my love).

My heart-ravisher is a beauteous beloved and is childlike (innocent and trustful, heavenly and
lively, nearest to God, as the smallest planet is nearest to the sun, ever fresh and radiant, God's
own apostle, never idle, ever gentle); I fear that one of these days in his fun and frolic, he would
kill me (by his beauty) and under the laws of sharia, he would not be blamed (for my murder)!

O seeker! Witness this amusing spectacle: I have an idol (beloved master) of just four years and
ten who is as sweet as he is smart (cheeky), and yet the moon of the 14 th day (the new moon,
chaudvin ka Chand) is his thrall, by heart and soul.

All said and done, the best course for me is to keep a bit of watchful eye on my heart and save it
from his killing beauty, because he does not see the good from the bad (i.e. he treats all alike for
he is perfectly just and equable, determined to redeem the virtuous and the vicious, emancipate
his friends as well as his foes), and he may not be able to keep a special eye on it (i.e. my heart)!

From his sweet lips, one can smell the scent of milk (as though he is a suckling, innocent, kind,
artless, playful and divine), even though from black (fascinating, spellbinding) eyes and his
piercing looks, drops of blood trickle [i.e. he is a very hard task master and spares no trouble to
himself and to his lovers when it comes to the practice of Sultan-al Azkar. As Shiv Dayal Seth,
the founder of the Radhasoami Faith said : "Do you know that I have been engaged in gnostic
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occupation since I was six years old, and it is only thus that this practice (of Sultan-al-Azkar) has
become perfect" (Last Bachan Soamiji Maharaj, Soami Bagh, Agra, 1982 edition, Discourse 4.
p. 12)1.

O Lord! In the trail of that newly blossomed rose, where has my heart vanished, for I have not
encountered it for very many days.

If my heart-burgling beloved were to break the heart in this wise (i.e. if he were to prevail over
the core of the array of gnostic seekers), the King (God) would, sooner than later, appoint him as
the supreme commander of His forces (i.e. make him His elect, His plenipotentiary in the
cosmos).

If the oyster of the eye of Hafiz becomes his resting place (abode), I will expend my soul in
thanksgiving for the sake of that precious grain of pearl.

LYRIC 379 (7 VERSES)

1-7. I have such a difficult business with my heart, that I can not articulate my difficulty in
words. O master! Your image and my soul know it in what sort of work I am engaged with my
heart every night, on account of my grief (caused by my love for you). O beloved (master)!
Remember the backsliders a bit; why, after all, are you driving the back saddle of your camel so
fast? In the wise of Majnun, I wandered a good deal in the forests and mountains in the hope that
I may perhaps find a clue (suragh) to my destination. But (unfortunately) right at the
commencement of my journey, I straggled (went stray) and my boat could not touch the shore.
On account of my somnolent and oblivious destiny (for which see Verse 2 in Lyric 176, supra,
and Verse 6 in Lyric 187, supra), how many opportunities came my way that I missed. After all,
at least once, you, O master, could have whirled on my path with gusto, when Hafiz has reduced
his body of water and clay to dust.

Lyric 380 (09 Verses)

1-9. An invisible voice from a corner of the tavern of (gnostic) wine (i.e. the congregation of
gnostics) said: "They will forgive your sin; quaff the (gnostic) wine."

(So to say, the almighty Lord's forgiveness does its own work, for the invisible angel delivers the
glad tidings of His compassion).

O seeker! Take this raw (discursive) reason (of yours) to the tavern of (gnostic) wine, so that the
red wine (i.e. a heavy dose of gnosis) may put its blood on the boil (i.e. so that this raw,
discursive reason may become baked into intuitive intelligence).

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O seeker! The forgiveness of God is much more than our transgressions; this is a recondite
gnostic point; why do you speak of it (reveal it)?

Although the union with him (i.e. the beloved Master) is not a gift (product) of your own
endeavour (it is, on the contrary, the gift of the master's own grace) ; but, O my heart, endeavour
as much as you can [i.e. don't sit idle, awaiting the master's grace ; exert to your maximum
capacity, for endeavour (karni) and grace (mehr) go together, and if you rely entirely on grace,
you would become an idler ; see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part I, op. cit., para 134. Also refer to Sar
Bachan, Poerty, Volume II, edition 1968, Discourse 24, Hymn I, Verses 145-148, p. 71; and
Discourse 38, Poos Month, Verses 15-34, especially Verses 15—17, pp. 395-97].

On the one side, there is my ear (keyed up to hear the Saut-i-Sarmadi) ; on the other side, there is
the chain of locks of the beloved (master through which I would have access to Saut-i-Sarmadi);
on the one side, there is my face (keyed up to have the vision of the master's inner form); on the
other, there is the dust of the door of the (gnostic) wine-dealer (that would eradicate my ego;
make me die to my flesh and enable me to have that vision).

There is the majestic, valiant king (Shah ShuJah, the master of the age, the sovereign of the
cosmos) who is the supreme judge of the (gnostic) faith, whose commandment Gabriel has made
the ring of his ears ;

O the Lord of Arsh (Alam-i-Jabroot), fulfil his (gnostic) mission and guard him against the evil
eye! O lovely, majestic master!

The (gnostic) ecstasy of Hafiz is not that major sin (which cannot be pardoned) particularly by
that king (saint) who covers up all the faults and flaws of his subjects (disciples).

Lyric 381 (10 Verses)

1-10. O Lord! That blooming, newly blossomed rose (the beloved master) that you had
bestowed upon me, in order to save him from the evil eye of the enviers of the garden (i.e.
congregation) I entrust to your care.

Wherever he (my beloved master) may go, may my heart and soul accompany him; may the
earnest, concentrated supplications offered by the generous divines with full faith and
concentration (himmat) act as the watch and ward of his body and soul.

O zephyr! If you reach the salubrious and salutary abode of that saviour (worthy of salutation, set
on salvaging our arch of gnosis from the turbulent ocean of manas and maya), I will expect
(literally, I will keep my eyes skinned) that you will convey my salaam to him.

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Unravel the (musky) mystery (naafa) of his black (absorbing and attractive) locks of hair with
reverence and restraint (baa adab), for it is -the seat of dear (i.e. loving) hearts; don't scatter and
stagger it.

Since my heart has a right to expect faith from his contours and beauty spots (that have
captivated my heart), give it (to lily heart). A place of honour in his locks before whose
fragrance, ambergris breaks camp (packs up and leaves).

Albeit he is a hundred removes (mahhala) from the street of fidelity, may the afflictions caused
by the Wheel of Time keep off his body and soul.

At a place where people quaff the (gnostic) wine in the memory of his (beloved master's) lips, he
who retains his wits must indeed be a despicable, besotted wretch.

One who takes the door of the (gnostic) tavern (congregation of gnostics) should not bother to
save his (worldly) wealth and riches (and give it away to the poor, needy dervishes and beggars);
anyone who drinks this Water of Life (gnostic wine), throws all his (worldly) belongings (his
wealth, relationships, traditional values and props, old faith, fleshly yearnings) into the sea (of
love for the master).

For one who is frightened of sufferings, the affliction of love is not lawful (halaal) for him; for,
in the path of love (for the perfect master) our head must be laid down at his feet and our lips
must be ever on his mouth (i.e. what we eat must first be tasted by him and what we do or don't
do must be under his commandment).

Kudos to his heart captivating breath and the mellifluousness of his discourses, for (by blessings
of the master) all the verses of Hafiz are the choicest specimens of love lyrics.

Lyric 382 (06 Verses)

1-6. O master! My heart could never get respite from your rival (adversary), for one
story-teller does not love another storyteller (because of professional jealousy; i.e. your
adversary, the pretender and charlatan, has been chasing me in a bid to detach me from you and
your congregation). The Superintendent of Public Morals smashed my pitcher (of gnostic wine,
in order to become a smash hit in the eye of the vainglorious preachers and muftis); in return, I
shattered his head (i.e. made him dumbfounded and thoroughly upset by my exposure of his
roguery, duplicity and hypocrisy) thus giving him the drug of sharia a tooth for a tooth and a
smack for smack. O seeker! My minstrel (the disciple-in-chief of the perfect master) struck such
a note (of Saut-i-Sarmadi), that even Jupiter (Brihaspati, emblem of sagely wisdom and balance)
turned into a gay and ecstatic dancer like Venus (Zuhra or Shukr, i.e. even the middle-of-the-
roader, respectably moderates were galvanized into ecstasy by the gnostic electric current). O
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spiritual diver! How can a diver take out the (spiritual) pearl (gnosis) from the sea (of Divinity),
unless and until he abandons the care and concern for his head? [That is, you cannot dive into the
sea of Divinity, so long as you are loaded with the sinking weight (feeling) of your ego.] If you
are looking for spiritual cash (wealth) don't seek it from your discursive reason; seek it from your
ardent love (for the perfect master) so that like the gold melted and pumped in the goldsmith's
crucible, you may also become pure, unadulterated gold (in the fire of love). It is from the holy
Koran of the holy visage of the beloved master that Hafiz, at the outset, recited the Surah A1
Hamd(AI Fatiha, the opening chapter of the Koran) and Surah-i-AkhIas Qul Hoo Allah.

Lyric 383 (08 Verses)

1-8. O beloved master! None has any respite from the noose of your locks of hair (i.e. your
mysterious self entangles everyone in the texture of gnostic mysteries) ; you (i.e. your mystique)
kills your lover (by its fascinating beauty) and yet you are not afraid of any retribution or blood-
money! O seeker! Until the lover (of the beloved master) with his heart consumed (in the fire of
his love) goes into the desolate expanse of self-effacement (Jana), he would never rise to the
position of the elect amongst the elect in his carefully guarded divine sanctuary. On account of
my longing (shauq) for the master, I have laid down my life at the centre like a candle (i.e. I have
fastened my gaze at the middle of my eyes at the nukta-i-sveda where I behold the radiant flame
of the burning candle). On account of my pure love for, and sincerity towards the master I have
died to my flesh. O beloved master! You have set such a fire to my crazy heart, that in my ardent
desire for you,' like the continual (uninterrupted) smoke, I am dancing and whirling. The élixir
(keemya or alchemy) of the affliction of your love transmutes the body of clay into pure gold,
howsoever stannic it may be (i.e. even if the. Man concerned is a tingod, supercilious and
pompous, a tin-horn or a cheap pretentious person, a tinpot and tinsel). In the fire Of love for that
candle (the beloved master of the age), unless you incinerate your corporeal existence like a
moth, you would not get any respite or relief from the hazards of the path of love (i.e. the devil
would always vex, harass, and torment you, so long as you retain your ego and don't die to your,
flesh). The shaft of his coy looks has carried the day in contest with Rustam; the shot of watch
and ward of his eyebrows has carried the day in competition with the Black Watch (waqqaas). O
Hafiz! What do the vulgar know about the worth of this invaluable pearl (the perfect living
master and his gnostic majesty)? Don't give this peerless pearl to anyone save the elect.

Lyric 384 (07 Verses)

1-7. O beloved master! Come (to me), for I smell the fragrance of spirit from your (radiant)
cheeks; this. because I have found a clue to my heart from that cheek of yours (i.e. until I behold
you, myardent yearning of heart for gnosis was dormant; you roused it from its deep slumber).
On beholding your (majestic, spiritual) stature, the stature of the haughty cypress (the
vainglorious hypocrites, the braggarts and swaggerers, the egotists and the thrasonical) sank into
mud (i.e. their name was dragged in the mud, they became disgraced and they became muddle-
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headed); the rose of the rose-garden (i.e. the tingod who paraded himself as a rose in the rose-
garden or company of tinhorns) became ashamed of himself. O earnest seeker! The qualities and
traits of the houris of which people speak at length, ask the beauty and grace of his cheeks about
them (and you will see how the beauty of houris fades into insignificance before the beauty of
my beloved master's cheeks). The navel of Chinese musk has derived 'its fragrance from the
locks of his (i.e. master's) hair; the rose has received such a lovely smell from his (i.e. master's)
cheeks. At the sight of his comely, fragrant form, the body of the Catalonian jasmine is put to
shalne; at the sight of his cheeks, the syringa persica has become blood-soaked (the beloved
master's cheeks have made the blood of syringa persica cold). O radiant master! At the sight of
the sun-like radiant face of yours, the sun is sinking in perspiration (and is going to set every
day); on beholding your cheeks, the moon of the firmament is waning, every now and then. O
reader! From the attractive poetic composition of Hafiz, Water of Life trickles just as drops of
sweat trickle from the cheeks of my perspiring sweetheart (my beloved master who perspires in
modesty at his feeling of his own grandeur and beauty).

LYRIC 385 (5 VERSES)

1-5. Throughout the length and breadth of this world, your beauty and comeliness has cast its
fascinating spell, so much so that the sun of the firmament is put to shame by the (radiant) visage
of the moon of the terrafirma. The sun of the fourth heaven (which according to Mohammedans
is of white gold and is Enoch's; where dwells the Angel of Tears whose height 'is "500 days'
journey" and he sheds ceaseless tears for the sins of man; in the Ptolemaic system, "the fourth
heaven is that of the planet sun) derives Its radiance from your countenance and, in the wise of
the seventh layer of the earth, is heavily indebted 'to you.' It is fit and proper for all the creatures
to behold your beauty, and prostration before your sanctuary .is an obligation for all the kings of
the earth. O master! How will my afflicted body get rid of this affliction (of your love) until your
soul-sustaining lips (i .e. your spiritual discourses) confer on it the sweet conserve of their rose
petals? O Hafiz! How can you be blessed with the kiss on the dust of his feet, unless the face of
your longing for him itself offers its solicitations at his feet?

Lyric 386 (05 Verses)

1-5. My eyes have become bleary with tears, afflicted with Arcus Senilis (white, opaque
narrow circle round the cornea of the eye); O beloved master, how long will you keep averting
your eyes from me? Come, so that we may embrace each other and make friends with each other;
what do you gain by remembering the past ? Whatever had to pass, has come to pass and is past
(i.e. O master, don't recall to your mind my past transgressions; forget them and forgive me).
What degree of acuity his eyeballs have, that by his amorous looks he has ripped up the garment
of my self-restraint as if by a pair of scissors? O master! It is only when the reflection of your
locks of hair and your radiant face fell in the eyes, that the eyes of men received their blackness
and Whiteness (i.e. they acquired the ability of fixation, focussing of the eyes or attention firmly

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on anything). O Hafiz! The lyric with zwaad as the terminal is very difficult to compose;
perhaps, O master, from your bountiful disposition, I could attain to it!

Lyric 387 (07 Verses)

1-7. Since the time when beauty itself drew the lines around the countenance of my beloved
(master), by the refulgence of his countenance, the moon indeed fell into (the) error (of regarding
it as the sun from which it must derive its effulgence).
In my ardent desire for his lips (discourses) which are more beauteous and pleasing than the
Water of Life, from my eyes, a fountain, like a brook has started flowing.

O comrade! Witness that beauty spot of black colour on his silver like looks exactly like a point
of (black) musk on the face of the moon.

O master! Bathed in perspiration (i.e. exuding sweat through the pores of the skin) and with your
hair dishevelled, since you entered the garden (congregation), the cheek of the rose (the
advanced seeker) has become pallid like saffron (i .e. has lost his glamour and importance and
has begun to feel humble and small), and the fragrance of musk and rose-water has fallen flat
(ceased to be attractive).

Sometimes in my ardent desire for him, I make my heart and soul to bite the dust (in a state of
humility and abasement); sometimes, I take to the fire of his love like a duck to water.

If the king (the master of the age) were to accept me as one of his thralls, then this bondsman
would enter the covenant of his thraldom by way of self-congratulation.

O Hafiz! By the liveliness of your poetic composition, the Water of Life (i.e. the master himself)
has become modest, for none has composed such verses out of love for him in this style.

Lyric 388 (07 Verses)

1-7. O master! May the Lord ward off the evil eye from your beauteous cheek, for, O Hafiz, he
(the perfect master) has done to you all the good that could be done!

In as much as his ruby-like lips have sucked the blood of your heart (i.e. his gnostic discourses
have overwhelmed your heart) in response to the urge of your heart, and in payment of blood-
money, take a few kisses from his lips (i.e. give him your warm, loving thanks).

O Hafiz! If ever you wriggle out of his captivity and its affliction (i.e. the prison and affliction of
your love for him), don't ever again entangle yourself in the snare of the locks and the beauty

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spots of these idols (those saints whose love acts on you like robbers, who plunder your
equanimity and make you writhe in the agony of separation from them).

O master! Come on, for it is time for settlement (of differences, suleh), friendship and sincerity,
for Hafiz has no quarrel with you, no differences to be ironed out.

O Hafiz! Whither you and whither your hope for your union with-him every lover's hand
(literally, no beggar's hand) has access to his skirt.

What a zap and pep Hafiz obtained from the union with that beloved master (from the vision of
his inner form) for, O Hafiz, you are the recipient of the soul-lifting gift (the vision of the
master's inner form from that heart-ravisher)?

O Hafiz! Come on sing a marvellous serenade, plaintive and soulful, for your verses are so
refreshing and vivifying.

Lyric 389 (08 Verses)

1-8. By the grandeur of the world-enlightening Exalted dominion of the valiant king (Shah
Shuja)! In my view, this whole fleshly world is rubbish trash (haqeer mataa).

In this world, only the ewer (of gnostic wine, i.e. the gnostic discourses and practices of Sultan-
al-Azkar) and my beauteous beloved (master) are sufficient for me; this, because all the rest are
the causes of dissensions and headache.

O preacher! Do preach, but make the (gnostic) cup the substitute of what you deem to be the act
of your kindness; once you do that (i.e. once you take to gnosis), you will not be at loggerheads
with anyone.

My ardent love (for the gnostic master) despatches me from the mosque to the (gnostic) tavern;
O my life, I am going there head over heels (turning a complete somersault on my earlier values
and faith), and without picking up quarrel with any- one!

The nightly schedule of quaffing (i.e. my nightly schedule of Sultan-al-Azkar) is enough for me;
fetch to me the (gnostic) wine; my drinking companion (fellow gnostic striver) has arrived, so
that, O advocate of repentance (against gnosis), depart!

This (fleshly) world is not a buyer (not interested in) of (gnostic) virtue (hunar), and except for
this I have nothing else (to. offer); where shall I go for trade with this capital of mine which the
world deems to be spurious and fake.

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O comrade! Bring to me the (gnostic) wine, for when the sun (the perfect master of the age)
lights the torch (mashaal), its beneficial beams reach even the cubicle of a dervish (lover of the
gnostic master).

May God not separate the forehead and face of Hafiz from the dust of the lofty sanctuary of the
valiant, splendid king (the perfect master who is the sovereign of the age).

Lyric 390 (09 Verses)

1-9. Early in the morning (i.e. during the hours of pre-dawn gnostic contemplation) when from
the secluded corner of Divine creativity, the king of the East (the sun from the Hoot of which
region the perfect master is the representative on earth), scatters its beams on all directions.

The sun takes out of the pocket of horizon, its mirror, turning it all around, it shows up (reveals)
the face of this (phenomenal) world in thousands of its aspects (i.e. during the pre- dawn gnostic
meditation, the practitioner witnesses the Supreme Sun of Hoot in its full majesty and splendour,
and also has a clear view of the myriad aspects of the cosmos).

From the angles (corners) of the pleasure haunt (tarab khaana) of the Jamshed of the sphere
(falak, i.e. the inner form of the living master), Venus (the surat or quintessence of soul) with the
intention of dancing, plays upon aulos (ancient Greek oboelike instrument, which looks like
sarangi, typical of the Saut-i- Sarmadi of Hahoot).

The violin raises the ruckus, clamouring: “Where is the denier (of gnosis)?" The gnostic cup
guffaws boisterously: "Where has the hinderer (of gnosis) vanished?

O witless seeker! Look at the ways (wazeh) of the Wheel of Time (dauraan); hold the (gnostic)
cup (i.e. abandon the obsolescent, anachronistic ways and means and take to gnosis), for all said
and done, these gnostic practices are the best ways and means of attaining to excellent spiritual
states.

The (darkly) locks of hair of the beloved of the fleshly world (i.e. the charlatan, the spurious and
the fake spiritualist; the agent of Satan) is, from end to end, masquerade (makr, pretence,
disguise) and fraud (fareb); the gnostics, on this point, are not variance with each other.

If you are seeking the good of the whole world, then seek a long life for the khusroe (the
sovereign of the cosmos, the master of the age), for that being is the bounteous, gracious and
kind, and (spiritually) profitable.

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He is the theatre of the pre-eternal favour and grace of the Lord; he is the light of the eye of
hope; he is the conglomeration of principle and praxis, theory and practice, wisdom and vision;
that splendid king (the living master) is the soul of this world.

O Hafiz! If you quaff (the gnostic) wine, quaff with the beloved (master) with rose-like cheeks,
for in the entire riches of this world, there is no wealth more precious than him.

LYRIC 391 (11 VERSES)

1-11. In my faithfulness of love tl)r you, I am renowned amongst all the beauteous beloveds
(saints) like the candle. Like the candle I readily come to the night assemblies (nightly
meditation) of those who gamble away their' heads to the master in the game of love and who are
inebriated of his (gnostic) wine.

At the hands of the heat of torment caused by the fire of my love for you, the mountain of my
steadfast perseverance has softened up like wax, since the day I began to melt away in the fire
(heat) and water (tears) of my love for you.

Without your beauty which adorns the whole world (i.e. which increases the beauty and decor of
the world), my day is like night; (is it not regrettable, O master, that) notwithstanding the
perfection of my ardent love for you, like the candle, I am straight-away in a state of melting
away!

The cord of my patience and endurance has been cut loose by the pair of scissors of my affliction
of love for you; in the fire of separation from you I am burning in the wise of the burning candle.

If the steed of my tears, red as roses (i.e. tears of blood), had not been galloping, when would
have my hidden secret (of love for you) become exposed to the eye of the worldlings, like the
burning candle?

Sleep has been eluding my grief-loving eyes every day and night; so to say, in the affliction of
separation from you, I weep like the melting candle.

As between the fire (of my love for you) and the water (of tears my eyes shed in separation from
you), this heart of mine, which is so frail and frenzied, is as excited and overwrought as is the
candle, and it is the shedder of tears in the wise of the candle.

O beloved master! In the (agonizing) night of separation from you, send me the message of
union with you (i.e. when I practise Sultan-al-Azkar in the night, let me have a glimpse of your
inner form) or else by the spark or my sigh, I will incinerate the whole world (of my being) in the
wise of the candle.
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O my beloved master with a moon-like face! Bless me with your union (your vision) one of these
nights, in order that the abode of my heart may become luminous by your glimpses in the wise of
the luminescent candle.

Without your glimpses (vision of your inner form), I am left only with one breath (i.e. I am at the
end of my tether, distressed to the limit of my endurance); show me your visage (your inner
form) like the break of dawn, so that I may liquidate my life like the burning candle (that melts
away and gradually fades out).

Queerish is the fire of the ardour of my love for you which has set to the head (and heart) of
Hafiz; how can I quench the fire of my heart by the water of my eyes even as the fire or the
candle cannot be extinguished by its own tears (i.e. the more the candle melts or sheds tears, the
more incandescently it burns).

LYRIC 392 (7 VERSES)

1-7. I swear by the grandeur of the rank and splendour of my valiant gorgeous king (master) that
for wealth and rank I have no quarrel or conflict with anyone.

I am thirsty of the draught of your (gnostic) wine but I don't take liberties (not overpresumptuous
or impudent) and I don't become a headache (i.e. I don't become a cause of vexation, difficulty
and annoyance).

O master! For the sake of God, with your (gnostic) wine (i.e. by your gracious looks and
discourses) wash down and cleanse my khirqa (garment, i.e. mind and body that encase or cover
my soul), for from their ways and style (of functioning), I don't get the scent of safety (i.e. I don't
feel spiritually safe from their wiles and guiles and their satanic tricks).

O seeker Witness that (abstinent) who never gave permission (to the gnostic) to listen to the
melody (of Saut-i-Sarmadi), how he is now whirling and dancing (like a whirling dervish) on the
plaintive notes of violin (the nida of Hahoot).

O master! In consideration (literally, gratitude) of your rare (gnostic) feat (grace) that I have
become your loyal, obedient thrall and you are my commanding king (master), cast an eye on
your lovers (i.e. show them favour and grace).

O instructor of respectability (i.e. socially and conventionally acceptable morals, norms and
standards which rule out ardour of love for the gnostic master) ! Be gone and don't admonish
(lecture to) me, for henceforth you would not notice me in any (respectable) corner of this earth
(for I am now entirely sunk in the sea of gnosis).
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I have become sick (disgusted, bored, weary become satiated) of the abstinence of Hafiz and his
boasts and braggings; play on the sarod (sound of Hahoot) and sing to me the melody in the tune
of (gnostic) serenade (samaa).

LYRIC 393 (7 VERSES)

1-7. In the morning, like the disheartened (be-dil) bulbul (overwrought by his love for the rose,
i.e. his beloved master) I went to the garden (congregation or the gnostic master) for a while, so
that I may seek a cure for my distraught mind like that of the down-hearted bulbul.

I had my gaze fastened on the red rose (gul-i-sooree, the face of my beloved master blooming
like a red, radiant rose), which h, reflecting light, was like a lamp in the dark night.

He was so much preening on his (gnostic) beauty and youth (spiritual liveliness) that he was
keeping aloof (ignoring) the (anguished) heart of the bulbul (his lover) in a thousand ways.

The beauteous daffodil (the keyed up, expectant eye of the loving disciple), in utter despair, was
shedding tears (for being ignored by the master); the red anemone (the zestful devotee of the
master) had a hundred scars in his heart and soul (the marks left by the wound of love).
The hyacinth (the extrospective, expansive, and candid lover of the master), by the annoyance
caused by the master's indifference, had become drawn out, with his tongue unsheathed like a
sword, ready for tongue-lashing; the red anemone had his mouth agape (in surprise and pique)
like men piqued by bitter argument between their two wives.

One (lover of the master) like the wine-worshippers was holding the ewer (surahi) in his hand
(i.e. he was cheek by jowl with the master); another, like the cupbearer of the inebriate (disciple-
in-chief of the master) was holding the cup in his hand (i.e. ready to turn the other cheek,
submissive and refusing to retaliate even when provoked or maltreated).

O seeker! Regard the rapture and pleasures of (the) youth(ful love for the perfect master) as a
rare boon like the rose (which blooms only in season) this is my message to you, for the
messenger's only duty is nothing except to deliver the message (to concerned quarters).

LYRIC 394 (10 VERSES)

1-10. If my luck favours, I will grasp his skirt with the hands; if I succeed in pulling him (close
to myself), I would exclaim, “Hurrah!” in delight ; if he pulls me towards himself, I would exult,
"By love !" in excitement for attaining to that distinction.

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This expectant heart of mine has not managed to receive the (gnostic) favour from anyone, albeit
the zephyr is carrying my (tragic) tale in all sides (i.e. I have failed to catch the eye of the perfect
master, notwithstanding my reputation of being a devout gnostic).

To what length shall I go to mollycoddle these stony-hearted idols (the beloved saints who are
hard-hearted and unconcerned, i.e. be-niyaz), these unworthy sons of their fathers (i.e. those
saints who do not give a hoot to their father or mother or any relation or friend; they are
unfettered by any bond or chain, and are wholly and exclusively concerned with gnosis), do not
remember even their father (how can, then, they bother or care for me).

O lovely master! It is a pity that I could draw not a whit on the bend of your eyebrow; ah, in this
misplaced confidence, trust and affection for them, my dear life has gone waste.

Engrossed in the thought of abstinence, I sit in seclusion, but it is strange that a (gnostic) scion
(the gnostic master) is pulling mc towards Saut-i-Sarmadi of violin (Hahoot) and tenor-drum
(Lahoot).

How can my contemplation pull out its hand from the eye-brows of my beloved master? (for they
ever invite me to ascend and penetrate the (nukta-i-sveda) and I find it queer that none has used
this bow (of the eyebrow of my beloved master) for hitting the arrow on the target of his
(spiritual) desire.

(O seeker!) The pharisaical abstinent is unaware (of what is happening around); you recite the
Great Name (naqsh) and don't disclose it (to anyone)! The Superintendent of Public Morals is
engrossed in his chicanery and fraud, you quaff the (gnostic) wine and don't take fright.

Look at that Sufi of the city (of carnality), and see how does he devour the morsel procured
unlawfully from others; may the hairs of the neck and the tail of that tasty fodder-eating beast
(the Sufi) become long and

LYRIC 394 (10 VERSES)

1-10. If my luck favours, I will grasp his skirt with the hands; if I succeed in
pulling him (close to myself), I would exclaim, “Hurrah!” in delight ; if he pulls
me towards himself, I would exult, "By Jove !" in excitement for attaining to that
distinction. This expectant heart of mine has not managed to receive the (gnostic)
favour from anyone, albeit the zephyr is carrying my (tragic) tale in all sides (i.e. I
have failed to catch the eye of the perfect master, notwithstanding my reputation of
being a devout gnostic). To what length shall I go to mollycoddle these stony-
hearted idols (the beloved saints who are hard-hearted and unconcerned, i.e. be-
niyaz), these unworthy sons of their fathers (i.e. those saints who do not give a hoot
to their father or mother or any relation or friend; they are unfettered by any bond
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or chain, and are wholly and exclusively concerned with gnosis), do not remember
even their father (how can, then, they bother or care for me). O lovely master! It is
a pity that I could draw not a whit on the bend of your eyebrow; ah, in this
misplaced confidence, trust and affection for them, my dear life has gone waste.
Engrossed in the thought of abstinence, I sit in seclusion, but it is strange that a
(gnostic) scion (the gnostic master) is pulling mc towards Saut-i-Sarmadi of violin
(Hahoot) and tenor-drum (Lahoot). How can my contemplation pull out its hand
from the eye-brows of my beloved master? (for they ever invite me to ascend and
penetrate the (nukta-i-sveda); and I find it queer that none has used this bow (of the
eyebrow of my beloved master) for hitting the arrow on the target of his (spiritual)
desire. (O seeker!) The pharisaical abstinent is unaware (of what is happening
around); you recite the Great Name (naqsh) and don't disclose it (to anyone); the
Superintendent of Public Morals is engrossed in his chicanery and fraud, you quaff
the (gnostic) wine and don't take fright. Look at that Sufi of the city (of carnality),
and see how does he devour the morsel procured unlawfully from others; may the
hairs of the neck and the tail of that tasty fodder-eating beast (the Sufi) become
long and

lanky (i.e. may the Sufi's hair stand on end and he tear his hair in extreme
anguish, grief and vexation, and may he become hare-brained, mad as a March
hare, giddy and foolhardy; and may he become rag-tag and bobtail, the rabble, "the
great unwashed" ; may his tail be between his legs very dejected and downcast as a
dog; may someone put some salt on his tail and catch and apprehend him). With
what sort of gaiety and cheeriness of heart can I quaff the (gnostic) wine and
become enthralled by it, when the huge array of affliction has come in battle order
in front and the back of my heart. O Hafiz! If you step into the progeny of love(rs,
i.e. if you join the ranks of the lovers), the concentrated attention of the police
chief of Najaf (an Iraqi city, i.e. Ali Karramallah who lies buried in Najaf) would
show you the way (or love for the master).

LYRIC 395 (12 VERSES)

1-12. The tongue of my pen does not have the capacity to spell out the plight
of my separation (from the beloved master); otherwise I could have dwelt upon the
details of my tale of love before you. I am a companion (rafeeq) of the crowd of
my fancies and a sharer of the saddle of forbearance and endurance; I am the

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comrade of ordeal and affliction, and a partner of parting (hamqiraan-i-firaaq).
Alas, my long life that has passed away in the hope of union with (my beloved
master), but the spell of severance from my friend has, not ended. The head which
in (the) pride (of my love for the beloved master) I used to lift up to the heaven,
now, by dint of my humiliation (on ceasing to be together with him) I have laid
down at the door of separation (from him). How shall I flutter my wings in the air
of union with the master? for the fowl of my heart, inside the nest Of separation
has torn off the wings and pinions. O master! Not much time is now left for the
boat of life to rock and drown in the endless sea of your separation, pulled and
pushed by the billow of my longing for you. When the sphere (Wheel of Time)
noticed my head a prisoner in the noose of love for you, then, it tied up the neck of
my steadfast perseverance with the rope of disjunction from you. What is the way
out now, when the boat of my patience, by separation having set sail, has become
entangled in the whirlpool of affliction (of separation from you, O master)! O
beloved! How can I, with all my heart and soul, advance my claim for union with
you, when my corporeal body has become the advocate of the Divine decree (i.e.
has acquiesced to my fated separation you), and my heart has become a surety
(witness) on behalf of separation (i.e. my heart and senses have become so
dispirited in separation from you that they no longer have the courage to prefer
thejr claim fop union With you. As it is, it is only by your grace that you can
embrace me, for all my endeavour has lapsed into doldrums). O Lord! Who had
inducted separation and parting into this world ? May the face of parting and the
hearth and home of separation turn black (i.e. my parting and separation be
blacklisted, put in the list of those in disgrace, under censure and punishment). Far
away from the beloved (master) and by the burning of my yearning for union with
him, my heart has turned into kebab, so that from the dining-table of separation, I
constantly feed upon the blood of livcr. (The liver was anciently supposed to be
the. seat of love.) O Hafiz ! If by the feet of longing (of the lover for the beloved),
the path (of love) could be negotiated, nobody would have entrusted the rein of
parting (firaq) to the care of separation (hijr). . (The word firaq connotes parting
which means, "to go away from one another; stop seeing each other; to leave or say
goodbye to someone." The word hijr means .the gap that separates and brings
about cessation of relations. Hafiz here uses the two words to bring out their
different shades of meaning.)

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LYRIC 396 (8 VERSES)

1-8. May none be afflicted with parting like the consumed me, for all my
life has passed away in parting from (the beloved). I am a stranger (to this
phenomenal world, for I am a domicile of Hoot) ; I am an ardent lover, who-has
lost his heart (to the beloved master,) and who is disheartened ; I am a beggar (a
lover, destitute of worldly rank) and I am distracted (sargardaan); I have beep
through the ordeal of hard days and pangs of parting. If "parting" to fall into my
hands, I will kill it, and then pay the blood-money for killing "parting" in terms of
my tears. Where shall I go? What shall I do? Before whom shall I narrate my
heart's plight who could deal with me justly and deal out retribution to "parting".
From the affliction of separation and parting I don't have a moment's respitc; O
beloved (master),. for the sake of God, deal with me fairly, and chastise "parting" !
the best course for me is to inflict parting on "parting" and eventually make it
(afflict with separation from you) in such a wise that I would make the eyes of
"parting" trickle the tears of blood. O comrade, whence am I? Whence is
"parting"? and whence is the affliction? It appears to me that my mother's act of
parturition of me was only for the sake of (i.e. for the benefit of) parting (from my
beloved master). Thanks to the scar left on the heart of Hafiz by the wound of your
love, that he, in the wise of the morning bulbul, is day and night warbling
plaintively in blood-curdling voice (literally, blood-raining voice) of parting.

LYRIC 397 (11 VERSES)

1-11. A place of tranquility, dregless rack, and kind, generous comrade—if

you can get at them (i.e. gain access to them) ever and anon, then, kudos to you
This (fleeting, jumping world) and all the business of this world are rubbish
through and through—I have examined the truth of it with a probe a thousand
times. Alas, it causes- me pain, and regret to see that till now I could not realize
that a true friend (comrade) and beloved (master) is an elixir (alchemy) of
auspiciousness. O seeker! Repair to some place of tranquility and count the
moments of respite (from the slings and arrows of this duplicitous world) as a rare
opportunity, for the way layers of the path (of love) are lying in ambush of your
life (to launch a surprise attack on you and make your life extinct). Where is that
spiritually courageous and stout-hearted beloved master who can provide to me
sincere guidance for my spiritual good, for I have not been able to trace the path to

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that beloved friend (master and guide) in any way (i.e. despite all my quest). When
my cupbearer (master) wets his ruby-like lips with the (gnostic2 wine red as agate
(i.e. when he delivers his inspiring discourses), I would offer to the coyness of the
cupbearer a thousand lives as an oblation (i.e. I would sacrifice all that I have unto
him). O master! The sweetness that your chin-pit contains, into its depth, a hundred
deep reflections cannot penetrate. Although the hair (secret) of your back (the
Divinity that supports and covers you) does not reach me, by imagining its
intricacy (imagination is a creative act of perception that joins passive and active
elements in thinking and that imposes unity on gnostic or reconditely creative
material—khayal-i-daqeeq) my heart (khatir) is cheerful and gay. In as much as
the gem ip the ring of my eye is like red sapphire (emblem of Lahoot), the tears of
my eyes have the hue of red sapphire (i.e. I am pining away through longing for
you, I am ever shedding tears of blood). O beloved master! Come, for even to
imagine of vowing against the ruby-like lips of the beloved (i.e. against his
inspiring discourses) and from the smile of his gnostic cup (his deep gnostic
secrets) is a fantasy whose validity is not authenticated by higher reason. He (my
master) jocularly; said: "O Hafiz! I am a slave to your disposition (i.e. I always
comply with what you desire)"; look at the extent to which he can go to pull my
leg.

LYRIC 398 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O master! If you quaff the (gnostic) wine, sprinkle a draught on the
earth (i .e. when you resort to Sultan-al-Azkar, inspire your insignificant lovers to
have a little share in your experience); the transgression (making others share your
gnostic experiences) which is gainful and spiritually profitable to others, what
harm will it cause you? O seeker! Immediately, pitch in the screen of love tight on
the zenith of the spheres (i.e. without delay, intensify your love for the master to
the maximum so that it may serve as your safety-valve), for all of sudden your
death may hurl you down in the dark pit (of perdition). Don't eat your heart out,
and quaff the (gnostic) wine in accompaniment of the tenor drum (Lahoot) and
violin (Hahoot); this because, the Wheel of Time mercilessly and without rhyme or
reason can suddenly put you to the sword of death. O my cypress, brought up with
care and pride and taking full care of me! I adjure you in the name of the dust of
your feet not to withdraw your feet from my dust (i.e. my dead body) on the day of
my death. O lovely master! Whether one follows the hellish path or the heavenly
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way, whether one is the son of Adam or an angel, in all religions, stinginess is
deemed to be infidelity in the Way. (Hence be kind and generous to your lovers.)
The fascination (fareb) of the daughter of grape (gnostic wine) waylays the
(dianoetic) intellect in a queerish style! May the grapevine (the gnostic master) not
perish till the doomsday. O Hafiz! you have done well in leaving this (fleshly)
world on to the path to the tavern ; for your pure heart, the supplications of the
spiritually stout-hearted are your loving companions.

LYRIC 399 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O my beloved master! My wounded heart (wounded by your arrows of-

love shot by your lips in the form of divine discourses) has a right on your lips-
rights arising from a covenant of salt (which could never be broken. As salt was
considered a symbol of incorruption, it of course, symbolized perpetuity "The Lord
God of

Israel gains the kingdom...to David...by a covenant of salt"; 2 Chron., xiii, 5.

Hafiz refers to his master as the salt of the earth, the elect of God. The love
between Hafiz and his master is there- fore a covenant of salt which the master
could never breach , see note in Verse 4 of Lyric 377 ante) ; O master, keep an eye
on (i.e. adhere to) the Truth (Haq)! I am departing and may God be with you. You
are the only peerless pearl who is the object of saving (holy) recitation by the
rosary of the angels in the Alam-i-Jabroot (Alam-i-Quds or One Thousand-Petalled
Lotus). if you have the slightest doubt about my earnestness and sincerity (of love),
put it to test (for you are the touchstone of Truth) ; nothing and nobody can
recognize the genuineness of pure gold as the touchstone can do. You had
promised to me: "I would soon become (gnostically) ecstatic and will permit you
to kiss me twice" ; your promise has gone beyond all reasonable limits and you did
not permit even one kiss, let alone two ! Open your smiling pistachio-like mouth,
and scatter sugar (sweet gnostic words) around ; don't make your mouth a suspect
in the eyes of the people (i.e. either speak up or people would raise all sorts of
questions about you and that may be deleterious to your divinely appointed
spiritual mission). I will make the Wheel of Time topsyturvy (upside down, in a
state of confusion), if it turns around in any way except according to my design

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(muraad); I am not the one to suffer -any loss or damage at the hands of the Wheel
of Time (i.e. I have transcended both time and space and the vicissitudes flung by
time cannot affect me in the least). O my rival! You too remain one or two
removes from Hafiz, when the master's own people don't leave him with Hafiz
even for a while.

LYRIC 400 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O messenger of 'blessed feet! What is your: name? I offer myself as an

oblation unto you. I have not seen such a swarthy being with such a salt (sharp wits
and spiritual liveliness) as he has. O perfect master! It will be appropriate for all
the beauteous ones (sages and saints) to appear at your door, and kiss the dust of
your feet, one by one. It is on account of both of your eyes that in the eye of
people, manliness sparkles ; on account of the light of your lips (i.e. your spiritual
discourses), the pupil of the eye is lighted. If Adam had partaken of the attraction
(husn) of your (beauteous) countenance, abandoning his sight (i.e. if the angels fell
in prostration before Adam in the pre—eternal, giving up his sight), it was just
because his countenance had not a whit of your beauty and attraction. O master! If
the portrayers of China were to behold that face of yours, they would remove all
the portraits from the Chinese gallery of portraits. Every night, from the top (i.e.
from your forehead), your moon-like face shines forth in such a splendour as the
sun shines from the sphere (saint's forehead is the correct index of his spiritual
majesty). O master! If you are not convinced of the love of Hafiz for you, test him
by all means ; his gold (love) is pure and unadulterated and it takes no fright from
the touchstone.

LYRIC 401 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O you beloved master ! By your wit, adding salt to discussion, you have
taken the assembly of the beauteous ones (saints and sages) by storm (made it
lively; overwhelming and enthralling it). By your salt (dry and laconic wit), in your
smiling lips, you have earned the plaudits from those inebriated by your lips
(discourses). In respect of showering pearls around and finesse (elegant style) your
ruby-like lips (your zestful discourses) carry off the shin e and sheen of the pearls ,
your red corundum-like lips (your spiritual arguments and discourses) are deflating
the rate of sugar (gnosis) cheaper than salt—the white powder of sodium chloride.

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O beloved master! Every moment, in a peculiar style, you scatter salt over people,
adding zest to their spirits and making them melt the ice (of monotony), making
their mouths laughing (making them lively, gay and smiling); O beloved, it seems
that you have observed your salt, adding zest to the laughter (gaiety) of the mouths
(people around). I experience (literally, notice) a sensation (power of perceiving
through the senses, warmth and a feeling of awareness; shor) from quaffing the
gnostic wine (i.e. from hearing your discourses) affected by your fascinating spell ;
from looking deep into your chin-pit, I obtain the salt of your (spiritual) zest. If on
account of its sweetness and finesse, your sugarcane (your fascinating stature and
gait) makes the spirit run in wild merriment, the sensational candy of your ruby-
like lips, by its salt (i.e. liveliness and pungency) vivifies the spirit. My heart has
become wounded (affected, forced to think anew) by your sensationally sweet lips
(i.e. your stimulating gnostic discourses), but then your lips salt away (cure with
their salt) my wounds (and pre-serve my spirit). Whatever the cup of (gnostic)
wine does (to me) by its sourish stimulation, the candy of your sweet lips does the
same by its salt (its laconic wit). O beloved master! Hafiz has found the Water of
Life from the salt-box of your lips (for you are the salt of the earth), although none
ever finds the Water of Life from a pinch of salt (reservation and scepticism).

LYRIC 402 (9 VERSES)

1-9. If a thousand enemies aim at my life to kill me, I don't care tuppence for
the enemies if you are my friend, O master! It is the hope for my union with you
that keeps me alive; or else, every instant, I am haunted by the fear of death
wrought by your separation. O master! If with every breath I don't smell your
fragrance from the wind, every mo ment the anguish caused by your separation
will tear at my heart-strings in the wise of the rose (that blossoms only to become
shattered). My both eyes are going to sleep, freed from the thought about you; Oh
no, Oh no (that is impossible), and my heart, in order to endure your parting,
keeping patience! Oh no, Oh no (that is unthinkable)! I am slain by the stroke of
your sword! That is no killing at all; it is eternal life for me ; my soul is sacrificed
unto you most welcome, for my soul is cheerful and gay. If you inflict a wound on
me, O perfect master, it is better than the balm applied by others; if you give me
poison, it is preferable to the antidote given by others (see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part
II, op. cit„ paras 123, 128 and 196) ! How can every eye perceive you just as you
are (in reality)? for everyone can comprehend (reality) in proportion to his
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perception (ibid., paras 27, 81, 100 and 113 ; also refer to ibid., Part I, paras 40-42,
48 and 56). O master! If you kill me (i.e. kill my refractory, base mind, Pindi
manas) by a sword, I will not change the rein away from you ; I will surrender my
head and will not remove my hand from your hunting bag (so that you may put my
head or ego in your bag, make me rid of ego and merge unto you; cf. ibid. , Part II,
para 242). O Hafiz! In the eye of the world you will become distinguished and
honoured only when you lay down your face at his door in utter humility [mita de
apni hasti ko, agar kuchh martaba chahey ; ke daana khaak mein milkar gul-i-
gulzar hota hay “Rub out (efface) your corporeal existence, if you desire some
exalted rank, for the grain sprouts as rose and becomes a rose-bed only after
licking the dust (after dying to self, becoming completely egoless,
selfeffaced,fana)"].

LYRIC 403 (9 VERSES)

1-9. If my gumption can make bold to realize my objective of reaching your

street, by the exaltation of my union with you, my mission of life could come
good. Those two musky liliaceous plants (locks of hair of the master) have carried
away my rest (have made me restless); those two blue daffodil-like eyes have
ruined me (carried off my peace of mind). (Allusion to Minerva, the goddess of
wisdom called by Homer as the "blue-eyed maid".) My heart's mirror receives its
shine (saiqat, furbish) from the jewel of your love so that by dint of it, the rust laid
on any mirror by the fluctuations induced by the Wheel of Time becomes cleansed
and burnished. I, the broke and in dire straits, will get a fresh lease of life (become
spiritually revived and resurrected) if I am slain by the sabre of the anguish of my
love for you. O my sweetheart and my soul! What crime have I committed before
Your Majesty, that even my obeisance to you does not become acceptable to you?
Now that on your portal I am speechless (be-nawa, i.e. your uncomplaining slave),
without wealth (zar, i.e. without a sparkling spirit) and valour (zor, i.e. capacity for
making strenuous gnostic exertion); I have no way to get in or get out, where shall
I go? What shall I do? To whom shall I speak of the plight of my heart? so much so
that have become sick (disgusted and weary) of the affliction and inequity of this
(fleshly) world. O beloved master! It seems that your anguish (caused by my love
for you) has not found a worse place than my heart, so that it made my constricted
(afflicted) heart its descent to settle down! O Hafiz! Make it up with the pang of

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love and hold your peace; don't expose the subtleties of ardour of love (ishq)
before the wiseacres.

LYRIC 404 (6 VERSES)

1-6. O you master, who by his (beauteous) form and (noble) proclivities
(shimaayal) has ravished my heart! While a whole world is inclined towards you,
you open your wings towards none (i.e. you don't give a hoot to anyone).
sometimes I sigh from the heart (i.e. my heart sighs), sometimes I pull out (extract)
the arrow of your love from my soul ; what shall I say in your presence as to what
(thorns and thistles) I have to pull out of my heart? What shall speak of the virtue
(the traits and qualities) of your ruby-like lips (your spiritual discourses) before the
rivals (who are totally unaware of your gnosis); to dwell at length on recondite,
delicate, meaningful subtleties before .the ignoramuses is not good. In as much as
the radiance of your beauty waxes more and more, day by day, the comparison
between your countenance and the .moon is ruled out (for the moon waxes for
some days and then wanes, while there is no waning for your moon-like visage).
You have carried away my heart and I am giving away my soul (life) to you; what
for, then, you have dispatched grief to me as your peremptory demander (to
demand my life)? When we are good friends, where is the need for a peremptory
demander? O Hafiz! When you have stepped into this well-guarded enclosure
(haram), become tied up with his skirt and become severed from all the rest (i.e.
break off and dissolve all ties of relationship with everyone else).

LYRIC 405 (II VERSES)

I-I l. O beloved master, whose countenance is paradise and whose ruby-like

lips (discourses) are like the celestial spring Salsabil (the Koran, LXXVI, 18); your
Salsabil (discourses) have marked (set about, reserved) our heart and soul to be
freely distributed (to all who care). The row of your freshly grown hair around
your lips (i.e. the subtle gnostic points you make in your spiritual discourses) are
like the houris around the celestial spring Salsabil In every corner, the shaft of your
eye (the arrow of your loving discourses) has slain (overwhelmed) hundreds like
me and those slain ones lie at your feet (in utter humility, they have become your
bondsmen). O Lord! Cool the fire that has set to my heart, the way you did it in the
case of Abraham: "O fire! Be coolness and peace for Abraham!" (the Koran, XXI,

317
69). O comrade! Although he (my beloved. master) is exceedingly comely and has
(overpowering) beauty, (mysterium fascinans) I don't have the gumption (to have
him in my embrace). My feet are lame (i.e. I lack spiritual zest and enthusiasm and
my spiritual endeavour is a lame try), and my destination (journey) is long; my
hands are short (they fall short of the target ; I have my hands full of worldly
problems and so, in gnosis, I throw up my hands, giving up in despair), and the
date (khurma) is on the palm tree (which is so tall, i.e. the spiritual master who
alone can give me the fruit to which my hands have no access). The beauty of this
composition (lyric) beggars description (i.e. beyond the resources of words); for
whoever looks for a witness to bear upon the radiance of the sun? Kudos to the pen
(brush) of that Painter (the supreme Creator) who has bestowed to the bride of
meaning such a perfection of beauty Is this verse (i.e. this lyric) a (Divine) marvel
or an expression of lawful (righteous) sorcery (the illustrations of which are given
in Surah XXI of the Koran) ; is this poesy (kalaam) brought by the Invisible angel
or by Gabriel ? Nobody (save a perfect saint) can compose a verse in this wise;
nobody can string such a precious pearl (see Sar Bachan, Prose, op. cit., Part I,
para 68 ; and Part II, para 203). O Hafiz! If you have a meaningful point to make,
bring it up ; otherwise, merely advancing a claim is nothing but argument and
counter-argument (qeel-o-qaal).

LYRIC 406 (10 VERSES)

1-10. During the springtide (the time when a perfect saint is manifest), by
taking a vow against (gnostic) wine (i.e. by pledging myself to keep off the perfect
gnostic master), I became so ashamed of myself (feel disgraced) that I wish none is
put to shame in this way, by doing deed of a most unrighteous sort. All my
haecceity lies in the cup of (gnostic) wine and by this destiny (i.e. by this quiddity
or essential nature) of mine I am, in no wise, ashamed of my beloved (gnostic)
master or his cupbearer (his disciple-in-chief). In the caravanserai of my eyes, last
night, so much of my blood (tears) shed, that I felt small before the caravans (a
wave of somnolence, which could not enter the caravan of my eyes). O master!
Thank God that you have a more radiant countenance than the sun has, for because
of this circumstance I don't feel guilty before the sun (when I admire your radiant
face as more sparkling and splendorous than the sun). If the inebriated narcissus
(intoxicated by his self-admiration and contemplation of his own physical and
mental endowments) has bowed his head before you, O master, it is apt and proper,
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for he is ashamed to face (unwilling through fear of humiliation) the style of your
inviting and provocative looks. It is on the cards that my beloved master may not
probe my lapses on account of his noble and generous disposition, for I am sick of
questions and ashamed to answer (i.e. unwilling«) answer through fear of
humiliation). O master! If the (gnostic) wine is not ashamed of your ruby-like lips
(i.e. if the gnostic wine does not suffer from feelings of infirmity and shame in
relation to your ruby-like lips), then, how come that the cup is laughing on the
other side of its face (to show its disappointment and shame after appearing
cheerful and confident in the beginning, i.e. to say, those charlatans and pharisaical
abstinent who appeared pompous and confident before they had heard you, became
ashamed of themselves at the exposure of their shallow spiritual claims after they
heard your discourses). My whole life has passed but I have not averted my face
from your majestic sanctuary; by the blessings and grace of the Lord, I no sense of
shame (guilt or remorse) in relation to your court, O master! And if you ask me
why has the shining pearl hidden its face in the oyster (i.e. why are the adversaries
of Hafiz who claimed to be spiritually majestic as a glorious pearl, gone in hiding),
my answer is that after hearing the (gnostic) lyrics of Hafiz they have run away and
taken cover (made for a place of safety and shelter). The Water of Life under the
care of Khidr, has tightened the veil of Darkness around itself, only because it feels
so small at the poetry of Hafiz and its water-like spontaneity and flow.

LYRIC 407 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O my master, who is like a doll of auspicious habits and ways (O my

cynosure, my attractive, beautiful guide)! I swear by the fascination of your looks.
O the verse (your discourse) that has descended straight from Divinity and whose
divination is ever propitious like huma! I swear by (i.e. I solemnly declare) the
subtle mystery (ramz) of your row of hair (on your glorious face). O my Water of
Life! I take oath in the name of (i.e. I acknowledge) the honey of your lips (i.e.
your sweet discourses); O the springtide of colour (Divine splendour) and
fragrance (Divine impulse)! I vow to dedicate myself to your mysterium fascinans
and excellence (husn-o-jamaal). I solemnly pronounce to affirm the truth of the
statement that the script(ure) of your cheeks is the rose-garden of the beholder's
eye (i.e. it is the garden of gnosis); I declare with an oath that this garden of
people's sight is a conclave (maqaal) of thought. I make an earnest pledge that your
sapphire-like (red agate) lips are as deeply ingrained in our eyes as a gem is
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stamped on the ring; I solemnly vow that your felicitous conversation and speech is
studded with precious pearls (gnostic wisdom). I take an oath solemnly to declare
that your nature and - disposition and habits are pure and pious; I attest to Divine
impulse which is like the fragrance of a rose. I guarantee on oath that your locks
have the Divine scent and your breaths (words) have the scent of northerly zephyr.
I invoke God as a witness to testify to your illuminating marvels and the amorous,
spiritually fascinating and revealing movements of your eyes; I vow complete trust
and confidence in your coyish moves and the deer-like advances of your eyes (that
are spellbinding). I swear to the truth and spiritual efficacy of the dust of your path
and to the hope pinned on your shadow of protection; I pledge my implicit trust in
the dust of your feet which is a matter of pride to the celestial limpid water. Affirm
as true that your cypress-like stature looks like the moon and that your splendid
height is like that of the sun; I testify on oath of your lofty portal which is as
luminescent as the resplendent ment. O master! When at the hour of giving
spiritual bounties, you open both your hands of munificence and generosity, the
being of the miserable (spiritual) seeker attains to the cash (object) of his quest. I
promise solemnly on oath that if Hafiz, without your acquiescence becomes
inclined towards anything or anyone, let alone wealth and valuables (maal-o-
manaal), may Hafiz not remain alive.

LYRIC 408 (10 VERSES)

1-10. O northerly zephyr! Here is the glad tidings for you, for the hour of our
union with the beloved master is fast approaching. How is my salma (my
sweetheart, my beloved master) and who are there in Zee Salaam (the city of my
beloved master, Salma)? Where are our neighbours (friends and rivals) and how
are they? The open space meant for our (gnostic) congregation has become empty
of (gnostic) wine tosspots and of the wine tun full to the brim (large wine cask,
symbolizing the advanced gnostics). After the ending of the phase of (gnostic)
rapturous delight (when the perfect master was manifest) the place of tranquility
(congregation) has become ruined; you may enquire about its plight from the ruins.
O master! In the numen (perfection or kamaal) of your mysterium fascinans
(eternal beauty or Jamaal), you have attained to all that you desire; may the Lord
ward off the evil eye from you. Now, the nightfall of separation is lengthening its
shadows; let us see what tricks the brigands of intellection (thoughts, surmises,
doubts, apprehensions, fears, lust, anger, greed, delusion, ego and the rest, in a
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word phantasmagoria) play (for they operate in the night). There is no break (end)
to the (endless) tale of love ; for here the tongue becomes languid (becomes listless
and puts on a tender, nostaglic and melancholic expression). My beloved master
looks at none at all; I can only sigh for such an exalted modesty, lofty spiritual rank
and awesome mysterium tremendum (jalaal). O representative of the praiseworthy
God! May the Lord be ever at your back Hosanna to you! Hosanna to you! Come,
do come! O Hafiz!? Love, and persevere steadfastly so long as you can; for the rest
for the ardent lovers, weeping is the best course; Oh yes, weep (and go on weeping
so long as the perfect master does not become manifest)!

LYRIC 409 (9 VERSES)

1-9. The Darius of the world, the aide-de-camp of Faith, the perfect khusroe
(the perfect gnostic master), who like Yahweh (the personal name of God, revealed
to Moses on Mount Horeb; Exodus, 3), the son of the all-winning Lord; victorious
in and the Lord of all Realms, the omniscient and just! O master! From those who
have reposed faith (Islam) in you, your sanctuary has opened the (sealed) apertures
in the body, heart and soul to enable them to have a full view of the splendorous,
higher spiritual regions. To show reverence and hold you in high esteem is fit and
proper for our spirit and reason ; your reward (for reverence and faith in you)
transcends the prizes of this phenomenal world, bound by space and time, and it
even includes the material rewards for your devotees. In the pre eternal, a drop
from the ink of your pen fell on the disc of the moon (the disciple utterly
dependent on the master's grace) the spots of which became the clues to various
riddles of man's lives on earth (allusion to the role of the moon in astrological
predictions). When the sun (the advanced devotee).noticed those black spots
(caused by the drop of ink), its heart yearned: "Would that I too were such a lucky
and distinguished bondsman of the master!" O King (master of the age)! By virtue
of your assembly (congregation), the firmament (spiritually exalted saints and
sages) are engrosse4 in dancing and whirling (ecstatic- in gnosis); don't withdraw
your hand from that continual chain (of dancing and. whirling). Quaff the (gnostic)
wine and bestow it (i.e. gnostic ecstasy) to the world for in the windings of the
(gnostic) noose of your locks, the necks of the miscreants are enchained (allusion
to Abu Lahab who will be plunged in flaming fire, and his wife, the wood carrier,
who will have upon her neck a halter of palm fiber; the Koran, CXI, 1-5). In as
much as the traversal of the sphere (the perfect master) is entirely on the straight
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path of justice, O seeker, rejoice, for now the oppressors (those that perpetuate
cruelty on the gnostics) cannot find their way to destination (which the gnostics are
destined to reach). O Hafiz! The pen (the command) of the King of the World (i.e.
the master of the age) is an instrument of Divine dispensation of daily provision;
don't uselessly worry about the daily portion.

LYRIC 410 (12 VERSES)

1-12. For the spiritual wayfarers, ardent love is enough for a guide; on its
way, I have installed a free distribution centre of water (i.e. on this path the lovers
ever shed tears with which they quench the ardour of their love and the thirst of
other wayfarers). How can he (the oppressor of gnostics) who has rowed his boat
(of arrogance and spite and chicanery) on the blood of the slain, take into account
the surging waves of our tears? The notoriety (bad name I have earned for my
indulgence in love for the perfect master) is not from my own free will; I have
been made to cast in my lot with it by He who shows the path. O Lord! Don't invite
me to a paradise without (gnostic) wine and the (gnostic) minstrel (my perfect
master), for my relief lies in the (gnostic) wine, not in Salsabil (the celestial spring
of water ; the Koran, LXXVI, 18). Don't kindle the fire of lascivious infatuation
with the false gods (who are lustful, treacherous and disloyal the agents of Satan),
if you really wish to pass through the fire (of Namrud, Satan's agent), safe and
sound, in the wise of Khaleel (Abraham). Either don't make friends with those who
are driven by the elephants (their base mind, for which refer to Sar Bachan, Prose,
Part II, op. cit., para 55; and Sar Bachan, Poetry, Volume II, op. cit.. Discourse 24,
Verse 27, p. 58; the elephant is the symbol of arrogance of learning and hauteur of
wealth and power), or (if you choose to make friends with them) make your heart
an abode that can be a match to the elephant (i.e. which can tame it, and that can be
done by you only with the active guidance of the perfect master). Either take the
responsibility of going off the track leading to your ultimate spiritual destination
(maqsad), or don't rut your Step on that road (of gnosis) without the perfect guide
(perfect master of the age; vide Verse 6 of Lyric 221, and Verse 7 of Lytic 264
ante). Either don't apply on your face the blue mark of love-knot (aashiqui), and if
you do so, then throw away the garment of your (pharisaical) righteousness into
the river Nile (and then never say nil desperandum "i.e. never give up the path of
love in despair"). 'May the king of the world (the perfect master of the age) subsist
forever and have all the spiritual distinction and wealth ; may everything come to
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pass just as he desires. O seeker! Either take care to be fully conscious of the
diabolical wonts and habits of those who are governed by their wild, elephantoid
mind (gross ego, lust, greed, anger, delusion, spite and envy), and tame your wild
elephantcid mind, and if you do so, you don't have to remind your elephant-like
mind of Hindustan (i.e. higher reason which you are already employing in order to
tame your elephantoid mind). (O seeker! Grasp firmly the hand of your higher
reason, for) your higher reason has no compeer of its beauty and intuition, just as a
noble (gnostic) disposition has no substitute for its divine trait. Under the
formidable feet of the beloved master Hafiz is lying in humility and abasement just
as an ant lies under the feet of the elephant.

LYRIC 411 (5 VERSES)

I-5, O (gnostic) cupbearer (advanced gnostic)! Fetch the (gnostic) wine, for
the springtide has arrived, so that sitting amid the (gnostic) roses (seekers and
sages), I may, once again, break my vow (of not taking to love for the master and
not quaffing the gnostic wine), so that I may go up to the garden (gnostic
congregation) loudly scoffing at the blindness (ignorance) of the thorns (the
adversaries of the master who is like the rose and the adversaries, being like thorns,
seek to prevent and stop the lovers of the rose from gaining access to the rose but
miserably fail to achieve their purpose, blindfold as they are), and like the bulbuls,
descend into the nest (sanctuary) of the rose (the perfect master). In the expanse of
the garden (congregation), quaff the (gnostic) wine (i.e. sit up in meditation), for
the tokens of cheeriness of heart have come from the tongue of the rose. In the
garden (congregation), roses (advanced gnostics) are in full bloom; you don't have
to reconcile yourself with separation (from the perfect master); now desire and
rush for the beloved (master), the (gnostic) wine, and the abode of fragrance of the
rose. O Hafiz! If in the wise of the bulbuls, you wish for union with the ruse (the
perfect master), then sacrifice your life on the dust of the path of the gardener (the
disciple-in-chief) of the rose.

LYRIC 412 (10 VERSES)

1-10. I smelt the fragrance of love and I experienced the lightning of union
with the beloved (master). O lively, northerly breeze! Come, for with your
fragrance I am infatuated. O cameleer of the camels of the beloved (master, i.e. O

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disciple-in-chief; see Sar Bachan, Prose, Part II, op. cit., para 14)! Stop and stay,
for in my longing (ishtyaq) for the perfect beauty (mysterium fascinans) of my
beloved (master), I have lost my steadfast (jameel) perseverance (sabr). O heart!
Give up grumbling against the night of separation (hijr) in gratitude for the fact
that the day of union (with my beloved master) is about to break (literally, lift the
curtain from its face). When my beloved is out to making up it with me, and is
apologetic (for delaying his union with me), in every situation, I can pass by
(ignore) the cruelty of the rival. O beloved master! Come (to me), for from
underneath the seventh curtain of my eye (i.e. from the nukla-i-sveda that is on top
of the seven layers of corporeal being, the five senses, ego and base mind) I have
laid the engraved carpet of flowers, which I have carved out of the workshop of my
phantasmagoria. In my contracted heart, there is no place for anything save for
your image; may no one be on trail behind your difficult (eluding) image, as I am.
It is out of expediency that I show my weariness (sickness) of my sweetheart (who
is my life) for, in reality, even when in ordeal, nobody can be sick of his own life.
My distracted (anxious) heart, at the hands of my grief (of my separation from
him), is trampled over by his (master's) feet, in such a wise that nobody can
become aware of his dire straits. By his locks (gnostic mysteries) I have become
captivated, lifeless (be-jaan) and down-hearted (be-dil); I am lying down in agony,
perplexity, fascinated, wingless and plumeless like a fowl. With a heart dispirited,
Hafiz has become a casualty of his ardent love for you! O lovely master, pass
through my dust (my grave), for my blood (that you have shed) is lawful (halaal)
for you (i.e. you don't have to pay any blood-money for having killed me by the
arrows of your love)!

LYRIC 413 (9 VERSES)

1-9. Whatever point I made in my essay to dwell on his (master's) qualities,

at length, whosoever heard me, he spontaneously said : "By God, it is as acceptable
as a precious pearl !" I have lost my heart to such a lovely master, who is comely,
and attracts and kills the lover, whose disposition is adorned and embellished with
spiritual decor and whose tendencies are admirable (excellent). In the beginning, to
pick up the art of love and spiritual ecstasy seemed simple and easy but, in the end,
in the process of acquiring its excellences, my soul became consumed (in the fire
of love cf. the first verse of the first lyric, ante). I asked him (i.e. my beloved
master): "When will you show your grace and favour to my frail spirit?" he replied:
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"When your (carnal) soul no longer remains a hindrance between you and me" (i.e.
it is only when you die to your flesh, and penetrate the nukta-i-sveda-your jugular
vein—that you will be able to sight me, for which refer to Discourses of Dabuji
Maharaj, Volume I, Discourse 49, dated 20 November, 1938, para 5, p. 274,
Soami Bagh, Agrå, 1985). On the gallows, Mansur-al-Hallaj made the beautiful
recondite point An-al-Haq ("I am God" which led imam Shaafi, one of the four
imams of Sunna, to pronounce him guilty of infidelity and sentence him to death);
don't enquire about such recondite points from men like imam Shaafi (for they
know nothing of gnosis). Woe betide my pang (of love), for my beloved did not
permit me admittance into his door, albeit I tried hard on all sides to gather the
means to gain admittance. O beloved! Time was when, like your inebriating eye, I
was holding fast to a secluded corner but, look now, that I, like the inebriates, have
become infatuated with your eyebrows (i.e. your gnostic mysteries). In the water
(tears) of my eyes, I have witnessed a hundred sorts of floods of Noah (calamities
and disasters), but notwithstanding all these ordeals, from the guarded tablet of my
heart, your image could not be obliterated. O lovely (master)! The hand of Hafiz is
the protective amulet to ward off the evil eye ; would that I could see it hanging
around your (beauteous) neck.

LYRIC 414 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O master! Whosoever in this (phenomenal) world does not nurse your
love in his heart, assuredly, his obeisance (to the Lord) is a waste (useless, rubbish
and trash) and false (like a counterfeit coin). It is a far-feiched notion to remove
one's heart from your love; to detach one's heart from one's being is easy (possible)
but to disjoint your love from one's heart is difficult (impossible). O lovely master!
Why does the admonisher forbid me from loving you? Perhaps, you alone can
solve this riddle! I wander around the whole world in the hope of noticing anyone
(like you), but failed to see your like in respect of beauty, form and ways and
habits [teri sooratse nahin milti kisi ki soorat ; hum jahaan mein teri tasveer liye
phirte hain : "O beloved! Your visage does not compare with anyone's visage; I am
wandering about holding your image (to discover your compeer)"]. O self-
focussing (conceited, overweening, hubristic) abstinent! Pass through the door of
the (gnostic) tavern of my beloved master), and look at my heart-ravisher who is
the emir of tribes (allusion to the Tribune, the Chief Magistrate of the ancient
Romans, appointed by the plebs in 494 B.C. to protect the people against the
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patricians' oppression. He was personally inviolable and had the power to veto the
measures and proceedings of any authority or other officials. The term "emir of
tribes" alludes to the chief amongst the ten tribunes). Tempted by the thought of
their union with you, the rivals have washed their hands of the responsibility to vex
you; and in my case, the ardent desire of my heart has been fulfilled by your ruby-
like lips (i.e. your deep spiritual and sweet discourses). O Hafiz! Begone and
render homage to the gnostic master (pir-i-mughaan); grasp his skirt and become
severed from all the rest (i .e. break off all other ties and relationships).

SECTION (WITH MEEM AS THE TERMINAL)

LYRIC 415 (10 VFRSES)

1-10. He who has trampled me over, like the dust of his path by his
unfaithfulness and inequity (jafa), I lick the dust of his feet in humility and implore
his mercy. I am not at all the one who would howl and growl (i.e. make a wailing
noise) in the face of your in- justice and faithlessness, (on the contrary,) am your
trusted and reliable thrall (chaakar-i-mawqid) and a bondsman who ever prays for
your exaltation. I am a mote of dust and my best time is passing your street (i.e. I
am the happiest man for being a tiny speak of the dust of your street); O lovely
master, my only apprehension is that some sudden gust of wind (a sudden blast of
lust and carnal soul, nafsi-ammara) may not carry me away! O seekers! In fact, I
am a Sufi of the prayer-hall of the Alam-i-Jabroot (Alam-i-Quds, the region of One
Thousand-Petalled Lotus or Turiya) but presently (for the time being), the temple
of the fire-worhippers (i.e. gnostic tavern of my perfect master) is my point of
reference (hawaalat-gaaham, a fact forming the basis of my spiritual evaluation or
assessment, the criterion). O master! For long I have pinned my hope (of
redemption) on the coils of your locks (your gnostic mysteries); I fear lest it should
make my hands of quest fall short of my expectation. This morning, the master of
the (gnostic) tavern gave me a (seven-ringed) cup in which I could perceive the
entire cosmos; and that cup made me aware of your (breathtaking) beauty. O
comrade! Rise with me who is seated on the path and come along with me towards
the (gnostic) tavern (of my beloved master) in order that you may see for yourself
what an exalted rank I have in this (gnostic) circle. O beloved master! On the head
of the candle of your stature, I am trembling true to the spirit of the flame, albeit I
know for certain that my love for your splendorous beauty would suddenly kill. me

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(i.e. would overwhelm me). It sounded good (reasonable) to me when I heard the
king of the East (i.e. the sun of the corporeal plane) saying: "Notwithstanding all
my regality and splendour, I am a bondsman of the Turanian King (the perfect
saint of Turan). O lovely master! You passed by me in ecstasy, without thinking
not a whit about Hafiz! Will you not regret if my sigh grasps your skirt (and halts
you from going away) ?

LYRIC 416 (8 VERSES)

1-8. O beloved master! Once again, by your grief (caused by my love for
you) you have made me so crazy that removed from your image, I cannot be
engaged (occupied) with my own self. Anyone who becomes acquainted with my
nightly moans and groans (induced by separation from my beloved master), would
assuredly become aware of my (nightly) secret as broad daylight. O master! You
had asked me (the other day): "Tell me how are you faring (getting on) in
separation from me?” (My reply is :) "I am put in such a bit of spot that if you look
at me, you would not be able to spot me." Henceforth, I will fasten my gaze on
your comely countenance, even if the whole world may come to know that I play
up to my beloved (master, to gain his favour). It appears that have taken a pledge
(vowed) that you would incinerate me in the fire of your grief (grief that my love
for you would bring on); I don't worry in the least; do burn me out; I will fully
cooperate. O beloved (master)! My heart is so much taken in with (enthusiastically.
impressed by and infatuated with) your coyness and preening (naaz) that if by your
coyish looks you kill me, I will pardon your act as lawful (halaal). Even if you
release me from your snare (i.e. from the snare of your love) I will, nevertheless,
take wing to the dust of your street. O beloved master! Although Hafiz would not
give away his life like a moth for your sake, would nonetheless burn 'him (Hafiz)
like a candle for a while before your face.

LYRIC 417 (9 VERSES)

109. If could manage to sit in the company of my beloved to whom, have

lost my heart,. I would quaff the (gnostic) wine from the cup of union with him
(i.e. would practise Sultan-al-Azkar, sitting front of him) ; will glean the roses from
the celestial garden (i.e. I would fasten my gaze on his rose-like face and attain to
heavenly ascension). The bitter wine of the sourish, surly Sufi would not be able to

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extirpate me (i.e. shake my roots embedded in your love and gnosis); O my
cupbearer (master), lay your lips on my lips (i.e. transmit your Divine impulse unto
my spirit) and take away my dear (literally, sweet) life. O beloved (master)! Your
lips (discourses) have bestowed sugar to • the (gnostically) inebriate and your (kind
and gracious) eyes have gifted (gnostic) wine to the (gnostic) tosspots ; but here
am I, who by extreme deprivation is neither here nor there (i.e. you have made me
totally irrelevant for you).' I will go crazy with my obsession (with you), for
throughout the night until the daybreak, I keep on talking to the moon (like a
lunatic), and I see peri in my dream (i.e. I am given to phantasmagoria). Of course,
the dust (of your feet and street) which the wind brought, that was your grace and
recompense (for my love for you); but remember the plight of your bondsman
who-is your ancient (since the pre-eternal) attendant and servant. It is not that
everyone who composed a poem, his work (kalaam) became popular and
attractive (dilpazer); in my case, I am able to seize a peculiar partridge (take
mental possession of a brilliant gnostic concept), for my gerfalcon (my higher
mind in communion with my beloved king .or master) is smart and nimble. If you
don't believe it, begone and enquire from the Chinese painter, Mani (216 A.D.-276
A.D. who claimed to be a prophet and held out his paintings as his miracle), who
desires to have the scripts written by the nib of my musky pen. Faithfulness and
speaking the truth is not for every Tom, Dick, or Harry ; (I am different, for) I am
the thrall of the Ruler of the Age, the Light of Haq (the perfect saint). O reader!
Listen to the mysteries of the ardour of love and (gnostic). inebriation from me, not
from Hafiz (i.e. not from the one who knows the Koran by heart), for every night I
keep company with the (gnostic) cup and chalice. the moon and the Great Bear (the
Plough formed by the seven brightest stars or Ursa Major or Sapt Rishis, Parveen).

LYRIC 418 (7 VERSES)

1-7. What is this clamour (uproar, shor, outcry) which I am witnessing

during the age (phase) of the full moon (the era of the perfect master); I find the
whole world full of dissension (fitha) and evil (shar). Everyone expects a better
day (than the last) from the Wheel of Time ; my problem is that I find every day
worse (than the last).For the fools, it is all rose-water and candy (i.e. a fool is ever
in a fool's paradise, in a state of contentment and happiness that rests on unreal,
fanciful foundations ; fortune favours the fools, and there is no fool like an old
fool; as the fool thinks, so the bell clinks); but I see that the entire daily portion of
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the wise one is the blood of his liver (i.e. the wise, because of their wisdom, are
ever in a state of anguish for they have to make a choice between the right and the
wrong, and they find that where ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise). I find the
Arabic stallion (the saint) wounded under the burden of the saddle (saddled with
the responsibility of redeeming the sinners, the wiseacres and the lascivious), while
I notice the golden carcans around the necks of all the asses (i.e. the fools fool
around in an aimless way, happy and gay, enjoying: their carcans of gold around
their necks).[Refer to Kabir : jaan bhakt ka nit„ maran, anjaaney kaa raaj; sar

ausar samjhey nahin, pet bhåran soun kaaj—"The knowledgeable devotee

dies every moment ; the ignorant reigns, for he cannot discern the right or
opportune from the wrong or inopportune, and is concerned with (only) eating his
fill." ] The whole world is at war and battling with the mothers of daughters (the
meek, the humble devouts who are faithful, like a chaste wife to the perfect
master), while I find all the sons- (the ferocious, beastly fellows) as ill-disposed to
the father (the perfect master). A brother takes no pity on the brother (i.e. one
member of the congregation is at loggerheads with the other member, and fights
with him mercilessly); meanwhile, I notice no love lost between the father and the
son (i.e. even the elderly members of the congregation show no compassion to the
younger ones). (See Sar Bachan, Poetry, Part I, op. cit., edition 1991, Discoursd II,
Hymn l, pp. 213-225.) O khwaja (the wiseacre and oppressor of gnostics)! Prick up
your ears to the counsel of Hafiz; begone and do good, for I find this counsel better
than a precious pearl and jewel.

LYRIC 419 (9 VERSES)

1-9. Has the hour not yet struck for the friends to take pity (on friends), and
for the breakers of their plighted word to be remorseful? Has he (the perfect
master) not heard of the plight of him whom he has stopped meeting, and in whose
chest the fire of love for him is raging? Would that my community (of gnostics)
had known what has come to pass on one of them, so that they could forgive .him
(for his errors) and take pity on him. O seeker tears have exposed my hidden needs
(of embracing my beloved master and hearing his marvellous discourses); I really
wonder at his silence which is so eloquent. O the son of my uncle (i.e. my great
and excellent comrade)! Make a gift of a draught of (gnostic wine from the master)
to me, for there are marks of excellence by which it is figured out. O you master,

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who in respect of your spiritual awe and charisma have overpowered all other
Sultans (sages and saints)! Take pity (on your lovers) ; may God give you the
recompense for it, for He reckons righteousness and goodness as a rare (Divine)
trait. The season of nauroz (springtide) has arrived (i.e. the perfect master has
become manifest) and the dunes have turned vagrant (i.e. the gnostics who, in
despair, had become frustrated and dispirited, have become vivified); the chilled
wine is now melting down (i.e. the gnostic practices which had frozen on the track,
fallen into disuse, have become revived), and the (spiritual) comrades are bursting
into melodious song. These are the moments (literally, months) when there are
branches Of grapes (gnosis) which demand (urge) un-concernedness (with
anything alien to gnosis); but look at me, who in the rapturous season of
November-December is celebrating the mourning month of Moharrum. For all my
friends and comrades, it is all plenty and plenitude, but for the miserable Hafiz, it
is fuqr and fine [fasting or fiqah, contentment or qanaat, remembrance of the Lord
or yaad-i-llahi, and penances or riyazat (fe+qaaf+ye+re) and torture of
punishment in the form of separation from the master].

LYRIC 420 (7 VERSES)

1-7. I have said time and again, and I say It once again that I, who has lost
his heart (to my beloved master), am not treading this path of love at my own. He
(God) has kept me like a parrot behind the mirror (so that the parrot may see its
own reflection. In the mirror and talk ; the trainer of the parrot, from the other side
speaks, and the parrot thinks that it is the other parrot, which in fact, is its own
reflection, is speaking and so begins to talk ; so to say, the parrot repeats and
imitates the words or actions of another without applying its own mind), and I am
repeating what the eternal master has spoken (i.e. I am my master's voice).
Whether I am a thorn or a rose or anything else that is the embellishment of the
garden, I grow the way He wishes to bring me up. O friends! Don't find fault with
me, the perplexed and down-hearted; I have a. precious pearl (inside of me, which
you cannot recognize and whose worth you cannot estimate, that is my capacity for
love, my longing for a perfect saint) and I am looking for a man of perception (who
can respond to my call of love, i.e. I am searching for a perfect saint). Although to
put on the mantle (dalaq or khirqa of traditional faith) and keep to the rose-like
(gnostic) wine (the Sahaj Marg, the Path Of Love) is a faulty combination, don't
reprehend me, for with that (gnostic) wine I am washing down the colour of
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craftiness (rang-i-riya, in order to come off with flying colours as a gnostic, and to
enable others to see things in their true colours). The laughter and weeping of
lovers rises from spot (source) different from that in the case of worldlings; (for
instance,) / burst into a song in .the night (i.e. I practise Sultan-al-Azkar and prick
up my inner ears to listen to the Saul-i-Sarmadi), while I Imoqn at the break of
dawn (which is the reverse of what the worldlings do, for they sleep and snore in
the night and rise refreshed with the daybreak). I questioned Hafiz: "Don't you
smell the fragrance of the dust of the (master's) tavern (congregation)"; I tell you
Don't reprehend me, for I am used to the scent of musk of Khotan" (the perfect
master).

LYRIC 421 (l VERSES)

1-11. O my cupbearer (beloved master)! Come again to me, for I am

ardently desirous of rendering service to you; I am a yearner of your thraldom and
I ever pray for your spiritual exaltation. In as much as the excellence of the
auspicious refulgence of the (gnostic) cup is from your spiritual excellence; O
lovely master, show me the way out of the layers of darkness of my perplexity and
distraction (i.e. out of my nescience, delirium and avidya). Albeit from all sides I
am sunk into the sea of transgressions and lapses, since the day I have become a
lover of your love, I have become worthy of your compassion. O (pharisaical and
false) jurist! Don't accuse me of infamy (badnaami) and inebriation (rindee), for
this has become my script from the court of destiny. O me! Quaff the (gnostic)
wine, for love-lock (aashiquee) is not from one's effort and free will; it is because,
it is this script which has been given to me from the exalted majesty of Divine
dispensation. O zephyr! If you boast of your admiration for the musky locks of that
beauteous (master of mine), do feel concerned about the recompense for my
modesty (for in my modesty, I don't even publicly admire his locks, i.e. his gnostic
mysteries). The arrow of your eyes, pulled in by the bow of your eye-brow, is
drawn and directed at the ear of my (spiritual) consciousness (i.e. my inner ear) ; it
is quite on the cards that it may miss the target, and so its shooting the target
depends on my own passivity [cf. teer tau aucha padaa thaa, gir pade hum aap se;
dil ko qatil ke badhaana, koyee hum se seekhjaye: “The arrow of my beloved fell
short of me, but I fell down at my own (in my modesty); let anyone pick up the art
of encouraging the killing instinct of the heart of the beloved from me!' O
beloved! I am the one who throughout his life has never gone out of his country,
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and yet I am now desirous of making a journey, on account of my longing to see
you. On the way there are mountains and rivers, while I am a broke and wizened
(zayeef) ; O khidr with propitious feet, help me by your inner spiritual drive and
concentrated grace. Apparently, I am remote from the portal of the spiritually
stately mansion of my beloved master, but by heart and soul, I am one of the pillars
of his Divine Majesty (who stands in that majestic court, ready to do his bidding)!
O beloved master! Hafiz is keen to lay down his life straight before your eyes; I am
always lost in this thought if only the span of my life affords me an opportunity.

LYRIC 422 (7 TERSES)

1-7. O comrade! Rise and let us cry barley (a truce or respite from formal
rules or takalluf); let us make the (gnostic) workshop lively and lustrous, for which
two cups of barley-wine (exceptionally strong gnostic beer) are adequate (i.e. the
perfect master and his disciple-in chief will do). The beloved (master), clad in
cloak, passes by the side of others; let us rip up the cloak of our patience (and see
through if all, i.e. perceive the true nature of the beloved master). Seventy lapses
(haftaad zillat) committed under the veil of secrecy, hidden from the eyes' of the
people are any day better than the homage rendered as an exercise in exhibitionism
and fraud. He that showed us so many favours and graces without testing us will
possibly forgive us if we transgress and slip. If only for one night I can lay my
hands on my beauteous (master), it would be impossible for me to release his skirt
from my hands (i.e. if I could have a clear vision of the inner form of my beloved
master in my nightly contemplation, I would permanently stick to it). (One day) I
told him: "From your (sweet) lips (i.e. from your sweet gnostic discourses) my
heart's earnest desire could not be realized"; he replied: "You ought to have
persevered steadfastly, in order that I could fulfill your ardent desire" (cf. Sar
Buchan, Prose, Part II, op.cit., paras 15, 20, 28, 35, 69, 99, 108, 117, 124, 126, 164,
167, 179 and especially 231). O Hafiz!' The Wheel of Time is not unfaithful, shaky
and infirm of pledge as it is; let us dedicate ourselves to the pledge that in this five.
day life we will adhere faithfully to our plighted word (given to our beloved
master).

LYRIC 423 (II VERSES)

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 1-11. There is news that safety and peace has descended on the deserver; he
is grateful for the rare boons he has received and this gratitude is verily to God
who is the giver of all boons. Where is the courier of that glad tidings who gave
this happy news of victory (of the perfect master on ell other sages and saints), so
that I may sacrifice my spirit at his feet, as one scatters silver and gold. On the
reappearance of that king (the perfect master's manifestation), the resolution of his
adversary to continue his vendetta against him in order to make him extinct, made
a queerish mark on the screen of non-existence (i .e. the adversary of the perfect
master himself became obliterated leaving not even a trace). The breaker of the
pledge (of love and faith), in every way becomes down-hearted (comes a cropper
in every sphere), while to keep the plighted word is accepted as a grave
responsibility by the kings of wisdom (saints and sages who always adhere to their
pledge of redemption of everyone who takes to their sanctuary). He (the vow-
breaker) fell into the river Nile (i.e. became blue in the face, breathless and
exhausted in bitterness and grief), and the heavenly sphere jeeringly told him:
"You have now become remorseful, although at this stage (i.e. after you have done
the foul deed) remorse is not of much avail." He sought some compassion from the
nimbus of the compassionate one (i.e. the perfect living master) but apparently,
except for his own eyes naught ghowed up-any moisture (any pity, i.e. nobody's
eyes moistened at his plight). O cupbearer (advanced gnostic)! Come, for it is the
age of the rose (the perfect master) and the hour of rapturous delight; bring forward
the (gnostic) cup and don't worry of its being more or less. O my heart! Ask for the
(seven-ringed imperishable golden) cup of Jamshed (typical of the seven heavens,
the seven planets etc.); don't desire the (perishable) kingdom of Jamshed, for this
was the working principle of the bulbul of the fragrant (spiritual) garden of
Jamshed. O spiritually triumphant mastered When you have shed the blood of your
adversaries like the contents of ewer, it is now time that in sharing rapturous
delight with your lovers and in (gnostic) ecstasy, hold fast to the (gnostic) cup (i.e.
deliver your gnostic discourses and inspire your disciples to practise Sultan-al-
Azkar). From the voice of the (gnostic) cup (i.e. Divine impulse), listen to the open
secret of this wretched hag (fleshly world) who, at every turn, appears to be a
newly-wed bride having killed in cold blood husbands like Kaikubad and Jamshed
(and, therefore, it will definitely slaughter you too). O seeker! Hafiz finds a place
of tranquility only in a corner of the tavern of (gnostic) wine (i .e. the congregation

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of the gnostic seeker), even as a fowl finds peace in the garden and the lion in his
den (retreat of a lion).

LYRIC 424 (12 VERSES)

l- 12. In the morning, intent on repentance (for falling in love with gnosis
and the beloved master), I said: "l would offer prayer seeking benediction" ; but
then the springtide (the advent of the iconoclastic master, the breaker at the vow of
abstinence), is reaching, what shall I do to counteract it (i.e. confronted with the
vow-breaking beloved master, how can I persevere steadfastly to my vow)? To tell
you the truth,. I cannot see the rivals quaffing (the gnostic) wine and I to remain
condemned only to watching (them). If during the season of red anemone (the
perfect master), if I sideline myself from amid the inebriates (gnostics), treat me of
non compos mentis (unsound mind and mental derangement). If one of these nights
(in my nightly contemplation) even a word of repentance (for taking to gnosis)
comes out of my tongue, in order to cleanse (of the dirt and filth caused by that
word of repentance), I would gargle with the (gnostic) wine (i.e. I would repent for
my perfidious repentance through resort to Sultan-al-Azkar and recitation Of the
Great Name as revealed by my perfect master).; would seat a beloved (saint) on the
throne of roses like a sultan and I would string a bracelet and garland with
liliaceous plant and jasmine for him. When the morsel of abstinence (from gnostic
wine and gnostic love for the perfect master) is alien to my way of life and my
customary practices (rah-o-rasm), the best course for me is to monopolize the
(gnostic) tavern (and to run along the rest). When by the glow of the countenance
of my beloved master, the rose of my ardent desire has blossomed, I should entrust
the head of the enemy (i.e.the head of Satan in me) to the care of a cutting stone
(sang-i-khaara of penances and fuqr). I am a beggar (lover) of the (gnostic) tavern
(master's congregation), but witness how at the hour of (gnostic) ecstasy, I preen
myself on the lofty firmament (my perfect master) and I order about the star (i.e. I
dictate terms to my fate). If I succeed in kissing only once the ruby-like lips of my
beloved master (i.e. if I could only hear his spiritual discourse with full
concentration only once), I would be vivified and reanimated and get a fresh lease
of life. I would wish to hold the (gnostic) cup in memory of the majlis
(congregation) of the King (the perfect master), with lips smiling and out of my
yearning I would rip up my garment. When I am neither a cadi, nor a school
master, neither the superintendent of public morals, nor a jurist (mufti), what shall
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I gain if I hinder the way of a gnostic tosspot ? Hafiz has become sick and
disgusted of quaffing (the gnostic) wine in secrecy ; I would make it come out in
the wash by talking about the sounds of sarangi and flute (Saut.i. Sarmadi in
Hahoot and Hootal Hoot).

LYRIC 425 (7 VERSES)

1-7. O lovely master! Tell me what have I gained from my ardent love for
you, except that both my traditional faith and dianoetic wisdom hove slipped out of
my hands? Although your grief (caused to me by your separation) has thrown the
granary of my life (my life's accumulated merit) to the wind, I swear in the name of
the dear dust of your feet that I have not broken my pledge (of love for you).
Although I am degraded as a mote, by the benediction of the exaltation of my
ardent love for you, and deeply in love with your refulgent countenance, I have
become absorbed in the beams of the sun (i.e. I have become as refulgent as your
splendorous visage). O comrade! Fetch the (gnostic) wine, for a whole life has
passed since absorbed in love, I sat down for relaxation in a corner of tranquility-
(i.e. it is long since I sat down to practise Sultan-al.Azkar). O preacher
(naseehatgo)! If you are one from amongst the sensible men, don't talk rubbish
(before me), for I am an inebriate (and all your talk would be utter nonsense).
Before my beloved master, how can I lift my head, for in his presence, I feel small
arid humilialed in as much as by my hand no appropriate service was rendered to
him. O comrade ! Hafiz has become consumed (in the fire of love) and yet that
heart-sustaining beloved master did not even say "I will send some balm (some
spiritually comforting message) for, after all, I have broken his heart."

LYRIC 426 (9 VERSES)

1-9. O comrades! Let other things alone, so that we may pass through the
road to the (gnostic) tavern (congregation), for all of us are badly in need of this
door (the door of the master's congregation) for the sake of a draught of (gnostic)
wine (from the master's inebriating discourse). The (fleeting, phenomenal) realm
where the throne and bolster (masnad) of (a mighty, majestic king like) Jamshed
are tluown to the wind (i.e. perish), to worry about such a realm would do us no
good; the best course is to quaff (the gnostic) wine (and ignore this perishable,
sensual world altogether), so that like the red sapphire we may be seated in the

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blood of our hearts (i.e. may attain to Lahoot by the grace of our love for him), and
we may embrace him (our master) in our arms. When on the day of Creation we
pledged (alast) our breath to (gnostic) inebriation and ardour of love (for the
master), the stipulation was that we would not opt for any path other than this
(gnostic) path. O (pharisaical) preacher! Don't admonish the crazy and the
distracted, for we (gnostics) don't even look at paradise in comparison with the
dust of the street of our beloved master. O master! Before our precious life passes
away, allow us to see the doom that the lightning of your lustrous countenance
would spell On the beholders. When the Sufis are in ecstasy, whirling, dancing and
singing melodious lyrics of love, let us also show our hand to some extent and
produce some sleight of hand (by our dexterity in the fanfaronade of Sultan-al-
Azkar). O beloved master! By your draught, the dust of the earth (the most trivial
seeker) has attained to the (spiritual) rank of ruby (Lahoot); and here we are the
poor, helpless lovers of yours, who, in your eyes, are more degraded than the dust.
O Hafiz! When we can find no way to the turret of the castle (kaakh) of union
(with the beloved master), there is no other way for us save to pass our lives on the
dust of his (master's) door-sill.

LYRIC 427 (9 VERSES)

1-9. If he (i.e. my master) strike me with the sword (of his stiff spiritual
discipline and hammering garhat), I would not hold back (restrain) his hand; if he
were to shoot me with arrow (cast his penetrating look into my foibles and
frailties), I would be exceedingly grateful. O comrade! Tell the beloved master
who has eye. brows like a bow not to dart his arrows at me, so that I may lay laid
down my life on his hand and arm. When the affliction or this

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