An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 372
Let us make our way along the avenue of the tavern's gate,
for, for a single draught, we all stand needy at this door.
That first of days, when we boasted aloud of love and the rogue's free path,
the covenant was that we should tread no road but that one way.
In a place where the throne and seat of Jamshid are given to the wind,
if we must swallow grief, it is bitter — better that we drink the wine.
That, haply, one might lay a hand about her slender waist,
we sit steeped in the heart's own blood, like the deep-red ruby stone.
Preacher, counsel not the distracted lovers, for we, indeed,
with the dust of the Friend's own street will not so much as glance toward paradise.
Since the Sufis are our exemplars in ecstasy and in the dance,
we too will lift a hand and join the conjuring of the whirl.
From a single draught of yours the dust of earth found pearl and ruby;
poor us, who before your presence are less than the very dust.
Hafez, since there is no road to the battlements of union's palace,
with the dust upon this threshold's door let us pass our life away.