An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 271
Such a grievance I hold of her black tress—do not ask;
for I am grown, through it, so lost and undone—do not ask.
Let none, in hope of faith, forsake his heart and creed,
for I so repent that I ever did so—do not ask.
For a single draught, whose taking harms no living soul,
I bear such vexation from the ignorant folk—do not ask.
Ascetic, pass us by in peace, for this ruby wine
so bears off heart and creed from the hand—do not ask.
There are wranglings on this road that melt the soul:
each raises a brawl—'look not on this,' 'ask not that.'
Piety and safety were my desire, and yet
that beguiling narcissus plays such a game—do not ask.
I said, I will ask my state's token of the sphere's own ball;
it said: that torment I bear in the mallet's curve—do not ask.
I said to her: for whose blood did you break your tress? She said:
Hafez, this tale runs long—by the Qur'an, do not ask.