An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 42
To tell you what my heart endures — that is my longing;
to catch some word of the heart again — that is my longing.
Behold the raw conceit: a tale already bruited
I long to keep hid from the watchful rivals still.
A Night of Power so precious, so exalted —
to sleep beside you till the dawn — that is my longing.
Alas, that a pearl of such delicate making,
in the black of night I long to pierce it through.
O morning breeze, lend me your aid this one night,
for come the dawn I long to break into bloom.
For honour's sake, upon the tip of my lashes,
to sweep the dust of your road — that is my longing.
Like Hafez, in the teeth of every pretender,
to sing the rend's own verse — that is my longing.