An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 182
You wrote no word of how you fare, and several days have passed;
where is a confidant, that I might send you a message or two?
We cannot come to reach at last that high and distant goal,
unless your grace should set some few steps forward on our behalf.
Since the wine went from the jar to the flask, and the rose cast off its veil,
hold fast the chance of joy, and strike a cup or two while you may.
Sugar blended with the rose is no true cure for our sick heart;
blend rather a few kisses in among a few reproaches.
Ascetic, pass in safety by the lane where the rogues carouse,
lest the company of a few ill-famed souls should bring you to ruin.
Since you have told the whole fault of wine, tell now its virtue too;
deny not wisdom for the sake of a few of the common herd.
O beggars of the tavern, God Himself is your friend and stay;
fix not your eye of expectance upon a few paltry gifts.
How well the Elder of the tavern spoke to his own dreg-drinker:
'Tell not the burnt heart's inmost state to a few unripened souls.'
Hafez burned in his longing for the sun-bright glow of your face;
O favoured one, cast down a glance toward a few of the luckless.