(Ghazal 203)
by Hafiz
Transltaed by Shariar Shariar
My heart, like a compass, goes round and round,
I'm lost in that circle, with foot firmly on the ground.
Minstrel did what he did from pain of Love,
Lashes of wise-of-the-world in their bloody tears have drowned.
With joy my heart bloomed, like that flower by the stream
Under the shade of that tall spruce, myself, I found.
My colorful wise Master, in my dealings with the black robes,
My meanness checked and bound, else my stories would astound.
Hafiz's cloudy heart in this trade was not spent,
This merchant saw and heard every hidden sight and sound.
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