An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 302
Be you the bearer of glad news, O breeze from the north,
for the season of union is drawing near to us.
'The tale of love admits no severing-apart;
here the tongue of narration is cut short.'
'What of Salma, and who is he of Dhu-Salam?
Where are our neighbours now, and how do they fare?'
'The dwelling is effaced after its days of well-being;
so ask now of its state from the ruins that remain.'
'In the beauty of perfection you have won your heart's desire;
may God avert from you the evil eye of perfection.'
'O courier of the sanctuary, may God be your shield;
welcome, welcome — come, O come!'
The arena of the banquet-hall now stands empty
of its comrades and its cup filled to the brim.
The night of parting has cast its shadow down;
let us see what games the night-riders of fancy will play.
Our Turk turns not a glance toward anyone;
alas for all this pride, and rank, and majesty!
Hafez, how long this love and this endurance?
Sweet is the lament of lovers — so lament!