O Bearer, bring the wine that brings joy
To increase generosity, & let perfection buoy
Give me some, for I have lost my heart
Both traits from me have kept apart
Bring the wine whose reflection in the cup
Signals to all the kings whose times are up
Give me wine, and with the reed-flute I will sing
When was Jamshid, and when Kavoos was king
Bring me the elixir whose grace and alchemy
Bestows treasures, from bonds of time sets free
Give me so they’ll open the doors once again
Of long life and the bliss that will remain
Bearer give the wine that the Holy Grail
Will make claims of sight in the Void and thus fail
Give me so that I, with the help of the Grail
All secrets, like Jamshid, themselves avail
Speak of the tale of the wheel of fate
proclaim to the kings and heroes of late
This broken world is in the same state
As seen by Afrasiab, the mighty, the great
Whence his mobilizing army generals
Whence cunning heroes’ war cries and calls
Not only his palace has gone to the dust
Even his tomb is destroyed and long lost
This barren desert is in the same stage
As the armies of Salm & Toor were lost in its rage
Bring the wine whose reflection in the cup
Signals to all the kings whose times are up
Well said Jamshid, the old majestic king
Worthless is this transient stage and ring
Come Bearer, that fire, radiant, bright
Zarathushtra, beneath the earth, seeks so right
Give me wine, in the creed of the drunk
Whether fire-worshipper or worldly monk
Come Bearer, that wholesome drunk
Who is forever in the tavern sunk
Give me, ill repute bring to my name
The cup and the wine I shall only blame
Bring Bearer, the water that burns the mind
If lion drinks, forest will burn and grind
Courageous, I’ll go hunting lions of fate
Mess up this old wolf’s trap and bait
Bring Bearer, that high heavenly wine
That angels with their scent would entwine
Give me wine, I’ll burn it like sweet incense
Its wise aroma I will sense now and hence
Bearer, give me the wine that makes kings
Witnessing its virtues, my heart sings
Give me wine to wash away all my flaws
Joyous rise above this rut’s deadly claws
When the spiritual garden is my abode
Why have me bound to a board on this road
Give me wine and then see the Ruler’s face
Ruin me & see treasures of wisdom and grace
And when I hold the cup in my hand
In the mirror everything I understand
In my drunken state, kingship proclaim
A monarch, when I am drunken and lame
Drunken, pearls of wisdom unveil
In hiding secrets, the selfless fail
Hafiz, drunken, songs will compose
From its melody Venus’ song flows
O singer, with the sound of the stream
Of that majestic song muse and dream
Till I make my work joy and ecstasy
I will dance and play with robe of piety
Given a crown and throne by his fate
The fruit of the kingly tree of this estate
Ruler of the land, and Lord of the time
The grand and fortunate King of the clime
He is the greatness vested in the Throne
comfort of bird and fish from Him alone
For the blessed, he is light of the eyes
Yet he is the gift of the soul of the wise
Behold, O, auspicious bird
The happy inspiration to be heard
The world has no pearls in its shells like Thee
Fereydoon and Jamshid had no heirs like Thee
Instead of Alexander, be here many a year
Know thy heart and discover joy is near
But seditious fate many plans may devise
Me and my drunkenness troubled by Beloved’s eyes
One, for his work, may pick up the sword
Another’s business only deals with the word
O Player, play the song of the new creed
To music of the stream tell to my rival breed
Finally with my enemy I have a chance
At victory, in the skies I can glance
O Player, play something pleasing to the ear
With a song and a Gahzal begin a story, dear
My sorrows have tied me to the ground
Raise me with my principles that are sound
O singer, with the sound of the stream
Play and sing that majestic song I dream
Make the great souls happy with you
Parviz and Barbad remember too
O Player, paint a picture of the veil
Listen, inside, they tell a tale
Sing a minstrel’s song, such
That Venus’ harp dances with her touch
Play so the Sufi goes into a trance
Drunken, in Union, leaves his stance
O Player, tambourine and harp play
With a lovely tune, sing and sway
Deceptions of the world make a vivid tale
The night is pregnant, what will it entail
O Player, I’m sad, play one or two
In his Oneness, as long as you can, play too
I am astounded by the revolving fate
I don’t know who will next degenerate
And if the Magi set one on fire
Don’t know whose light will then expire
In this bloody resurrection field
Let the cup and jug their blood yield
To the drunk, of a good song, give a sign
To friends bygone, a salutation divine
Ó Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
December 20, 2001