An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 164
The breath of the dawn wind will soon turn scatterer of musk;
the ancient world once more will rise into its youth again.
The Judas-tree will hold its cornelian cup out to the jasmine;
the eye of the narcissus will keep its watch upon the anemone.
This tyranny the nightingale endured in parting's grief
will burst, all cries and clamour, into the rose's royal tent.
If from the mosque I turned toward the tavern, fault me not;
the sermon's hour runs long, and all this fleeting time will pass.
O heart, if you defer today's delight until the morrow,
who will stand as surety for the ready coin of life?
In Sha'ban lay not down the cup, for soon this radiant sun
will vanish from our sight until the night of Ramadan's feast.
The rose is precious — reckon its brief company a prize,
for by this road it came into the garden, and by that will go.
Minstrel, this is the feast of friends — sing out a ghazal and a song;
how long repeat, 'Thus it has gone, and thus it is to be'?
Hafez came into the clime of being for your sake alone;
step forth to bid him one farewell, for he must soon depart.