Spring and all its flowers

by Hafiz

English version by Homayun Taba & Marguerite Theophil
Original Language Persian/Farsi

Spring and all its flowers
     now joyously break their vow of silence.
It is time for celebration, not for lying low;
You too -- weed out those roots of sadness from your heart.

The Sabaa wind arrives;
     and in deep resonance, the flower
     passionately rips open its garments,
     thrusting itself from itself.

The Way of Truth, learn from the clarity of water,
Learn freedom from the spreading grass.

Pay close attention to the artistry of the Sabaa wind,
that wafts in pollen from afar,
And ripples the beautiful tresses
     of the fields of hyacinth flowers.

From the privacy of the harem, the virgin bud slips out,
     revealing herself under the morning star,
branding your heart and your faith
     with beauty.

And frenzied bulbul flies madly out of the House of Sadness
     to unite with the flowers;
its love-crazed cry like a thousand-trumpet blast.

Hafez says, and the experienced old ones concur:

All you really need
     is to tell those Stories
     of the Fair Ones and the Goblet of Wine.

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Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

Spring and all its flowers
     now joyously break their vow of silence.


Something by the great Sufi poet Hafez in honor of spring and Norooz, the Persian New Year.

You too -- weed out those roots of sadness from your heart.

Spring has something to teach us about living with selfless exuberance.

The Sabaa wind arrives;
     and in deep resonance, the flower
     passionately rips open its garments,
     thrusting itself from itself.


The Sabaa is a wind at sunrise coming from the East. Traditionally, lovers confide their secrets to the Sabaa. Spiritual poets associate the Sabaa with the breath of the Beloved; coming from the East, it is the first whisper of daylight, of spiritual enlightenment. It carries the perfumed promise of the new day. It is a messenger of awakening, subtle, playful, revealing new beauty.

Pay close attention to the artistry of the Sabaa wind,
that wafts in pollen from afar,
And ripples the beautiful tresses
     of the fields of hyacinth flowers.


The bulbul is a songbird, a nightingale.

And frenzied bulbul flies madly out of the House of Sadness
     to unite with the flowers;
its love-crazed cry like a thousand-trumpet blast.


The bulbul's song in the garden aches with love for the flower's beauty. But, to the spiritually minded, to the lover, this "House of Sadness" is sought, not avoided, for yearning becomes union. Then the House of Sadness becomes the House of Revelry, where the wine of bliss flows and stories find their fulfillment.

The Way of Truth, learn from the clarity of water,
Learn freedom from the spreading grass.


I hope you have a beautiful spring weekend!



Recommended Books: Hafiz

The Gift: Poems by Hafiz the Great Sufi Master Music of a Distant Drum: Classical Arabic, Persian, Turkish & Hebrew Poems Islamic Mystical Poetry: Sufi Verse from the Early Mystics to Rumi Love's Alchemy: Poems from the Sufi Tradition The Hand of Poetry: Five Mystic Poets of Persia, with Lectures by Inayat Khan
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Spring and all its