An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 113
Last night the violet spoke to the rose, and dropped a lovely hint:
'This twist I bear in the world was given me by a certain one's tress.'
My heart was the treasury of secrets, and the hand of fate
shut fast its door and gave the key to a stealer of hearts.
Broken, I came to your threshold, for the physician
gave me a token of healing in the balm of your grace.
Whole be his body, glad his heart, and light his mind,
who reached out a hand and brought aid to the helpless.
Go, cure your own self first, O giver of counsel;
wine and the sweet Beloved — whom have they ever harmed?
She passed by me, the wretched one, and told the rivals:
'Alas, my poor Hafez — what a soul he gave away!'