An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 216
That friend, by whom our humble house became a dwelling for a fairy—
from head to foot, like any fairy, was free and clean of every fault.
My heart said: I shall settle here within this town to keep her scent;
the poor thing never knew at all that its beloved was a traveller.
Not only from my own heart's secret did the covering veil fall down;
so long as the sphere has ever been, its way and wont was rending veils.
The one my wise heart looked upon—that very moon who, in herself,
together with the grace of manners, bore the way of the men of sight.
The unloving, ill-disposed star bore her clean out of my grasp and hand;
yes, what am I to do? It was the turning fortune of the moon.
Set forth an excuse, my heart, for you are but a beggar-dervish, while she
within the empire of all beauty held the very crown of sovereignty.
The happy times, the golden hours, were those that passed beside the Friend;
the rest was all but fruitlessness, and all unknowing, and unaware.
Sweet were the streamlet's brimming lip, the clay, the greenery, the wild rose—
alas that flowing living treasure was but a passer on his way.
Go slay yourself for envy, nightingale, that the rose, in all her state,
held at the dawn her fair displaying with the morning's gentle breeze.
Each treasure-hoard of blessedness that God bestowed on Hafez here
came only from the blessing of the night-long prayer and the dawn-litany.