مزرع سبز فلک دیدم و داس مه نو

یادم از کشته ی خویش آمد و هنگام درو

گفتم ای بخت بخفتیدی و خورشید دمید

گفت با این همه از سابقه نومید مشو

گر روی پاک و مجرد چو مسیحا به فلک

از چراغ تو به خورشید رسد صد پرتو

تکیه بر اختر شب دزد مکن کاین عیّار

تاج کاووس ببرد و کمر کیخسرو

گوشوار زر و لعل ار چه گران دارد گوش

دور خوبی گذرانست نصیحت بشنو

چشم بد دور ز خال تو که در عرصه ی حُسن

بیدقی راند که برد از مه و خورشید گرو

آسمان گو مفروش این عظمت کاندر عشق

خرمن مه به جویی خوشه ی پروین به دو جو

آتش زهد و ریا خرمن دین خواهد سوخت

حافظ این خرقه ی پشمینه بیانداز و برو

HARVEST

In the green sky I saw the new moon reaping,

And minded was I of my own life’s field:

What harvest wilt thou to the sickle yield

When through thy field the moon—shaped knife goes sweeping?

 

In other fields the sunlit blade is growing,

But still thou sleepest on and takest no heed;

The sun is up, yet idle is thy seed:

Thou sowest not, though all the world is sowing.

 

Back laughed I at myself: All this thou’rt telling

Of seed-time! The whole harvest of the sky

Love for a single barleycorn can buy,

The Pleiads at two barleycorns are selling.

 

Thieves of the starry night with plunder shining,

I trust you not, for who was it but you

      Stole Kavous’ crown, and robbed great Kaikhosrow

Of his king’s girdle thieves, for all your shining!

 

Once on the starry chess-board stretched out yonder

The sun and moon played chess with her I love,

And, when it came round to her turn to move,

She played her mole —and won—and can you wonder?

 

Earrings suit better thy small ears than reason,

Yet in their pink shells wear these words to-day:

      ‘Hafez has warned me all must pass away—

Even my beauty is but for a season.’

R. Le Gallienne