An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 231
I said: I bear the grief of you. She said: your grief will end.
I said: be my moon. She said: if it should rise.
I said: learn from lovers the way of fidelity.
She said: from the fair-faced such a thing seldom comes.
I said: I will bar the road of sight against your image.
She said: it is a night-farer; it comes by another way.
I said: the scent of your tress led me astray from the world.
She said: did you but know, that same tress would be your guide.
I said: sweet is the air that rises on the morning wind.
She said: cooler the breeze that blows from the Beloved's street.
I said: the nectar of your ruby lip has slain me with longing.
She said: then play the slave, for it cherishes its slaves.
I said: when does your merciful heart resolve on peace?
She said: breathe it to none, until its hour arrive.
I said: you saw how the season of joy came to its end.
She said: hush, Hafez — this grief too shall come to an end.