From my dear friend's resplendent brow pure light was shed; And on that moon there fell from far the kisses that I sped.

The face of Saki charmed my eye, the harp my ear: At once for both mine ear and eye what omens glad were here!

I painted thine ideal face till morning's light, Upon the studio of my eye, deprived of sleep at night.

My Saki took at this sweet strain the wine-bowl up: I sang to him these verses first; then drank to sparkling cup.

If any of my bird-like thoughts from joy's branch flew, Back from the springes of thy lock their fleeting wings I drew.

The time of Hafiz pa.s.sed in joy: To friends I brought For fortune and the days of life The omens that they sought.

CLVII

Come, Sufi, let us from our limbs the dress that's worn for cheat Draw: Let us a blotting line right through this emblem of deceit Draw.

The convent's revenues and alms we'd sacrifice for wine awhile, And through the vintry's fragrant flood this dervish-robe of guile Draw.

Intoxicated, forth we'll dash, and from our feasting foe's rich stores Bear off his wine, and then by force his charmer out of doors Draw.

Fate may conceal her mystery, shut up within her hiding pale, But we who act as drunken men will from its face the veil Draw.

Here let us shine by n.o.ble deeds, lest we at last ashamed appear, When starting for the other world, we hence our spirit's gear Draw.

To-morrow at Rizvan's green glade, should they refuse to make it ours, We from their halls will the ghilman, the houris from their bowers Draw.

Where can we see her winking brow, that we, as the new moon of old, At once may the celestial ball, as with a bat of gold, Draw?

O Hafiz! it becomes us not Our boastful claims thus forth to put: Beyond the limits of our rug Why would we fain our foot Draw?

CLIX

Aloud I say it, and with heart of glee: "Love's slave am I, and from both worlds am free."

Can I, the bird of sacred gardens, tell Into this net of chance how first I fell?

My place the Highest Heaven, an angel born, I came by Adam to this cloister lorn.

Sweet houris, Tuba's shade, and Fountain's brink Fade from my mind when of thy street I think.

Knows no astrologer my star of birth: Lord, 'neath what plant bore me Mother Earth?

Since with ringed ear I've served Love's house of wine, Grief's gratulations have each hour been mine.

My eyeball's man drains my heart's blood; 'tis just: In man's own darling did I place my trust.

My Loved one's Alif-form[45] stamps all my thought: Save that, what letter has my master taught?

Let Hafiz' tear-drops By thy lock be dried, For fear I perish In their rushing tide.

CLXVI

Knowest thou what fortune is?

'Tis Beauty's sight obtaining; 'Tis asking in her lane for alms, And royal pomp disdaining.

Sev'erance from the wish for life an easy task is ever; But lose we friends who sweeten life, the tie is hard to sever.

Bud-like with a serried heart I'll to the orchard wander; The garment of my good repute I'll tear to pieces yonder;

Now, as doth the West-wind, tell deep secrets to the Flower, Hear now of Love's mysterious sport from bulbuls of the bower.

Kiss thy Beloved one's lips at first while the occasion lingers: Await thou else disgust at last from biting lip and fingers.

Profit by companionship: this two-doored house forsaken, No pathway that can thither lead in future time is taken.

Hafiz from the thought, it seems, Of Shah Mansur has fleeted; O Lord! remind him that the poor With favor should be treated.

CLXXIII

With my heart's blood I wrote to one most dear: "The earth seems doom-struck if thou are not near.

"My eyes a hundred signs of absence show: These tears are not their only signs of woe."

I gained no boon from her for labor spent: "Who tries the tried will in the end repent."

I asked how fared she; the physician spake: "Afar from her is health; but near her ache."

The East-wind from my Moon removed her veil: At morn shone forth the Sun from vapors pale.

I said: "They'll mock, if I go round thy lane."

By G.o.d! no love escapes the mocker's bane.

Grant Hafiz' prayer: "One cup, by life so sweet!"

He seeks a goblet With thy grace replete!

CLx.x.x

O thou who art unlearned still, the quest of love essay: Canst thou who hast not trod the path guide others on the way?