An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 156
In beauty, grace, and faithfulness no soul can match our loved one;
in this one saying your denial cannot touch our cause at all.
Though all the vendors of their charms have stepped into the show,
not one in loveliness and grace can equal our beloved.
By the truth of our old fellowship — no keeper of the secret
can equal our single-hearted love, so true in rendering its due.
A thousand images come forth from the Maker's fashioning pen,
yet none in heart-enthralling charm can match our loved one's form.
A thousand coins they carry to the market of all being;
yet not one bears the minting-stamp of our full-weighted gold.
Alas for the caravan of life, that they departed so,
their dust can never reach again the air of our own homeland.
O heart, chafe not at the malice of the envious — rest assured
that ill shall never come to touch the mind of our hopeful one.
So live that, should you turn to dust along the road at last,
no speck of vexation from our passing lights on any soul.
Hafez has burned away — and I fear the story of his tale
may never reach the hearing of our fortune-favoured king.