An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 246
It is the Feast, the rose's season ebbs, and the friends await;
cupbearer, behold the moon in the king's face, and bring the wine.
I had lifted my heart from the days of the rose, but
the aspiration of the pure fasters wrought a goodly work.
Bind not your heart to the world, and in your cups ask
of the cup's grace and the tale of Jamshid, who won his desire.
I have naught in hand but the ready coin of my soul — where is the wine?
For that too I would scatter upon the cupbearer's coquetry.
A joyous, gladsome fortune it is, and a Khosrow generous and kind;
O Lord, keep him from the evil eye of the age.
Drink wine to this servant's verse, for it lends a fresh luster
to your jeweled cup — this royal pearl of song.
If the pre-dawn meal was missed, what loss? There is the dawn-cup;
the seekers of the Friend break their fast with wine.
Since the veiling of faults is Your generous pardon,
forgive our heart, for it is coin of base alloy.
I fear that on Resurrection Day, rein beside rein, will ride
the shaikh's rosary and the wine-drinking rogue's cloak.
Hafez, since the fast has gone and the rose too takes its leave,
perforce drink wine, for the season has slipped from hand.