Persian Poetry
A curated treasury of Iran's greatest poets — authentic text, the meaning of every couplet, recitation, and translation. Not an archive, but a doorway into a thousand years of thought and beauty.
351 poems · 7 poets · 14,923 couplets · 266 recitations
ای نفسِ خرّمِ بادِ صبا
از برِ یار آمدهای، مرحبا!
O joyous breath of the morning breeze — you come from the beloved: welcome!
The Poets
Seven voices that shaped the language and memory of Iran.
Faal-e Hafez
Make an intention, still your heart, and ask the master of Shiraz.
Selected Verses
The verses every Iranian should know — with translation.
به نام خداوندِ جان و خرد
کز این برتر، اندیشه، بر نگذرد
In the name of the Lord of soul and wisdom, beyond whom no thought can ever pass.
کُنون اِی خِرَدمَند وَصفِ خِرَد
بِدین جایگَه گفتن اَندر خُورَد
Now, O wise one, to praise wisdom is what befits this place to say.
خروشید و زد دست بر سر ز شاه
که شاها منم کاوهٔ دادخواه
He cried aloud and struck his head against the king: “O King — I am Kaveh, who demands justice!”
فرو هشت ازو سرخ و زرد و بنفش
همی خواندش کاویانی درفش
From it he hung streamers of red, gold, and violet, and named it the Kaviani Banner.
اَلا یا اَیُّهَا السّاقی اَدِرْ کَأساً و ناوِلْها
که عشق آسان نمود اوّل ولی افتاد مشکلها
O cupbearer, send the cup around and offer it — for love seemed easy at first, but then the troubles came.
صلاحِ کار کجا و منِ خراب کجا؟
ببین تفاوتِ رَه کز کجاست تا به کجا
Where is the work of virtue, and where the ruined I? See the gulf of the road — from where, to where.
اگر آن تُرکِ شیرازی به دست آرَد دلِ ما را
به خال هِندویَش بَخشَم سَمَرقند و بُخارا را
If that Shirazi Turk would take my heart in hand, for their dark mole I’d give Samarkand and Bukhara.
رونق عهد شباب است دگر بُستان را
میرسد مژدهٔ گل بلبل خوشالحان را
The garden wears again the glory of its youth; to the sweet-voiced nightingale comes word of the rose.
بر چهرۀ گل نسیم نوروز خوش است
در صحن چمن روی دلافروز خوش است
Upon the rose’s face the breeze of Nowruz is sweet; in the meadow a heart-kindling face is sweet.
ابر آمد و باز بر سرِ سبزه گریست
بی بادهٔ گلرنگ نمیباید زیست
A cloud came and wept once more over the grass; one must not live without rose-red wine.
این کهنه رباط را که عالم نام است
وآرامگه ابلقِ صبح و شام است
This worn caravanserai that men call the world is the resting-place of the piebald dawn and dusk.
میخوردن و شادبودن، آیینِ من است
فارغبودن ز کفر و دین، دینِ من است
To drink and to be glad is my creed; to be free of unbelief and faith is my faith.
بشنو این نی چون شکایت میکند
از جداییها حکایت میکند
Listen to this reed as it complains — it tells the tale of separations.
ای نوبهار عاشقان داری خبر از یار ما
ای از تو آبستن چمن ، وِی از تو خندان باغها
O springtime of lovers, have you news of our beloved? By you the meadow quickens, by you the gardens laugh.
خداوندا درِ توفیق بگشای
نظامی را رهِ تحقیق بنمای
O Lord, open the gate of grace; show Nezami the road of truth.
آفرین جانآفرین پاک را
آن که جان بخشید و ایمان خاک را
Praise to the Soul-Giver, the Pure — who gave the soul its life, and gave faith to dust.
Poem texts from the open Ganjoor corpus (public domain), self-hosted with attribution on every page.