An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 283
At dawn the unseen herald brought glad tidings to my ear:
'It is the reign of Shah Shuja—drink now your wine, and boldly.'
Gone are the days when men of insight withdrew to the margin,
a thousand things to say in the mouth, and the lip kept silent.
To the harp's own voice we shall recount those tales
at whose concealment the cauldron of the breast boiled over.
The home-brewed wine, drunk in dread of the constable,
we shall drink to the Beloved's face, with cries of 'Drink! Drink!'
Last night they bore him shoulder to shoulder from the tavern-street—
the city's imam, who once dragged the prayer-mat on his shoulder.
O heart, I will guide you, for your good, to salvation's road:
boast not of your debauch, and traffic not in piety either.
The king's illumined mind is the seat of the light of epiphany;
if you seek nearness to him, labour in purity of intent.
Make the litany of your soul nothing but the praise of his glory,
for the ear of his heart is intimate with the angel's message.
The mysteries of the kingdom's weal the Khosrows understand;
you are a corner-seated beggar, Hafez—raise no clamour.