Hafez Ghazal 46.

Song and Guitar by Parvaneh poem by Hafez

Iranian people call themselves Nation of Love!
This is due to the fact that our poetry is full of expressions and experiences of love. Love in Sufi circles is an obscure things. Is it about love of the Beloved (God), or is it about Earthly love.
What's your take?

English translation under the Persian:

گل در بَر و می در کف و معشوق به کام است
سلطانِ جهانم به چنین روز غلام است
گو شمع میارید در این جمع که امشب
در مجلسِ ما ماهِ رخِ دوست تمام است
در مذهبِ ما باده حلال است ولیکن.
بی‌روی تو ای سرو گُل‌اندام، حرام است
گوشَم همه بر قولِ نی و نغمهٔ چنگ است
چشمم همه بر لَعلِ لب و گردشِ جام است
در مجلسِ ما عِطر مَیامیز که ما را
هر لحظه ز گیسو‌ی تو خوش بوی مَشام است
از چاشنیِ قند مگو هیچ و زِ شِکَّر
زان رو که مرا از لبِ شیرینِ تو کام است
تا گنجِ غمت در دلِ ویرانه‌، مُقیم است
همواره مرا کویِ خرابات مُقام است
از ننگ چه گویی که مرا نام ز ننگ است
وز نام چه پرسی که مرا ننگ ز نام است
مِی‌خواره و سرگشته و رندیم و نَظَرباز
وان کس که چو ما نیست در این شهر کدام است؟
با مُحتسبم عیب مگویید که او نیز
پیوسته چو ما در طلبِ عیشِ مدام است
حافظ منشین بی‌مِی و معشوق زمانی
که‌ایّامِ گل و یاسمن و عیدِ صیام است

Flower in hand, wine in cup, and beloved pleased,
Even a Sultan of Times becomes Slave for such a day.
Do not bring candles to our party tonight,
In our gathering, the moon-like face of the beloved shines full aspect.
In our creed, wine is permitted, yet
Without your face, O Cypress, , it is forbidden.
My ear is drawn to the flute’s melody and the harp’s tune,
My eyes fixated on ruby lips and the circling of ruby cup.
Do not mix perfume into our assembly,
For every moment, our breath fills with the scent of your tresses.
Speak not of sugar nor of sweet confections,
For I taste sweetness only from your lips.
As long as the treasure of your sorrow dwells in my ruined heart,
The tavern shall always be my abode.
Why speak of disgrace when my name is of disgrace?
And why ask of reputation when my reputation is for disgrace!
A drinker, a wanderer, a rogue, and an admirer of beauties am I—
And tell me, who in this city is not like us?
Do not speak ill of the keeper of accounts for he too
Seeks eternal pleasure, just as we do.
Hafez, do not sit without wine and the beloved ever,
For it is the season of roses, jasmine, and the festival of fast ‘s at end.