An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 319
For years I followed the creed of the rends,
until, by the verdict of reason, I clapped my greed in prison.
Not by myself did I find the road to the Anqa's abode;
I crossed this stage in the company of Solomon's bird.
Cast one shadow upon my wounded heart, O living treasure,
for it was in the passion for you that I laid this house in ruins.
I vowed I would never kiss the cupbearer's lip — and now
I bite my lip: 'why did I lend my ear to the ignorant?'
In what runs counter to custom seek your desire, for I
gathered my heart's whole harvest from that disordered tress.
The pattern of chastity and drunkenness lies not in your hand or mine;
whatever the Sultan of eternity bade me 'do,' that I did.
From eternal grace I hold my hope of the paradise of Firdaus,
though I did long duty as doorkeeper of the tavern.
That, in my old age, the friendship of Joseph has caressed me,
is the wage of a patience I kept within the hut of sorrows.
Rising at dawn and seeking of well-being, like Hafez —
whatever I did, I did it all from the fortune of the Qur'an.
If I sit foremost in the divan of the ghazal, what wonder?
For years I did service to the Master of the Divan.