An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 351
God forbid that in the season of the rose I forsake the wine!
I boast of reason — when should I do such a deed?
Where is the minstrel, that all the harvest of piety and learning
I may set to the work of harp and lute and the voice of the reed?
From the wrangle and cant of the school my heart grew weary awhile;
for a season too I will do service to Beloved and to wine.
When was there fidelity in the age? Bring the cup of wine,
that I may tell the story of Jamshid and of Kavus the King.
I fear not the blackened scroll, for on the Day of Reckoning,
by the grace of His favour I will fold a hundred such scrolls away.
Where is the courier of the dawn, that the plaints of the night of parting
I may lay before that blessed star, that auspicious-footed one?
This borrowed soul that the Friend entrusted to Hafez —
the day that I behold His face, I will render it up to Him.