The Mystic Poet, Hafiz
12th of October is Hafiz Day in Iran, and many ceremonies are held in commemoration of this great Iranian poet in Iran and some other countries throughout the world.
Come drink your fill of liquid rubies,
For God has made my heart
An Eternal Fountain
Hafiz was a Persian/Iranian Sufi Mystic and lyric poet whose life and work influenced post-Fourteenth Century Persian writing more than any other author. His poetic voice is a unique and exquisite combination of ecstatic devotion, wit, satire, complex metaphor, a dauntless capacity to be outspoken with an aim to expose hypocrisy and deceit in different levels of society, and the insight of a spiritually realized Master.
His full name is: Khwaja Samsu d-Din Mohammad HÆ'”fez-e Shirazibut he used the simple pen name Hafiz, which means one who has memorized the Koran.
Shams ud-Din Mohammad was born in Shiraz in south-central Iran around 1320. He memorized the Qu’ran in his teens. Hafiz is a title of great respect given to one who has memorized the Qu’ran by heart. His father died leaving the family in debt. At twenty-one he met his spiritual master, Muhammed Attar, and became his disciple. His twenties and early thirties were his phase of Spiritual Romanticism when he was the poet of the court of Abu Ishak. His poetry was considered a corrupting influence by the ruling Muslim orthodoxy and he had to leave Shiraz on two occasions in order to avoid their displeasure. He was a teacher of Qu’ranic studies at the college in Shiraz and wrote some 500 ghazals and 42 Rubaiyees over a period of 50 years. He died around 1388.
the Poetry of Hafiz
translated by Daniel Ladinsky
What happens when your soul
Begins to awaken
Your eyes and your heart
And the cells of your body
To the great Journey of Love?
First there is wonderful laughter
And probably precious tears
And a hundred sweet promises
And those heroic vows no one can ever keep.
But still God is delighted and amused
You once tried to be a saint.
What happens when your soul
Begins to awaken
To our deep need to love
And serve the Friend?
O the Beloved will send you
One of His wonderful, wild companions –
Like Hafiz.
Only that Illumined One
Who keeps
Seducing the formless into form
Had the charm to win my heart.
Only a Perfect One
Who is always
Laughing at the word Two
Can make you know of love.
The Truth has opened so many mysteries
that I can no longer call myself
a Christian, Hindu, Muslim, or Jew.
I have learned
so much from God
that I can no longer call myself
a man, a woman, angel, or even a pure soul.
Love has befriended Hafiz so completely
It has freed me
from every concept and image
my mind has ever known.
Translated by Gertrude Lowthian Bell
A flower-tinted cheek, the flowery close
Of the fair earth, these are enough for me
Enough that in the meadow wanes and grows
The shadow of a graceful cypress-tree.
I am no lover of hypocrisy;
Of all the treasures that the earth can boast,
A brimming cup of wine I prize the most–
This is enough for me!
To them that here renowned for virtue live,
A heavenly palace is the meet reward;
To me, the drunkard and the beggar, give
The temple of the grape with red wine stored!
Beside a river seat thee on the sward;
It floweth past-so flows thy life away,
So sweetly, swiftly, fleets our little day–
Swift, but enough for me!
Look upon all the gold in the world’s mart,
On all the tears the world hath shed in vain
Shall they not satisfy thy craving heart?
I have enough of loss, enough of gain;
I have my Love, what more can I obtain?
Mine is the joy of her companionship
Whose healing lip is laid upon my lip–
This is enough for me!
I pray thee send not forth my naked soul
From its poor house to seek for Paradise
Though heaven and earth before me God unroll,
Back to thy village still my spirit flies.
And, Hafiz, at the door of Kismet lies
No just complaint-a mind like water clear,
A song that swells and dies upon the ear,
These are enough for thee!
Translated by Abbas Aryanpur Kashani
The angels knocked at the tavern-door last night,
With man’s clay, they kneaded the cup outright.
The dwellers of God’s heavenly abode,
Drank wine with me-a beggar of the road.
Heaven could not bear this wonderful trust,
That to a madman this honor was thrust.
Disputes of religions is but a false pretense,
Having not seen the Truth, they speak nonsense.
Thank God! There is peace between Him and me.
So dancing mystics took their cups with glee.
What makes the candle laughing isn’t a flame.
The fire that burned the butterfly is my aim.
No one can display thoughts as Hafiz can,
No such words are written by the pen of man.