An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 439
Last night I dreamed a moon had risen in the sky,
by whose face's reflection the night of parting closed.
The reading came: the far-gone Friend is drawing near;
O would she came in at the door, the sooner the better!
Bless her memory — my cupbearer of fortunate omen,
who ever came in at the door with goblet and cup.
Sweet, if in your dream you had seen your own homeland,
that memory of her company might guide us on our way.
If eternity's grace could be won by force and gold,
the Water of Khizr had fallen to Alexander's lot.
Remembered be that time when, from roof and door, to me
came every breath the Friend's word, the heart-thief's own note.
When would your rival have found such scope for tyranny,
had one wronged, some night, but come to the Judge's door?
What know the raw, the road-untried, of love's own rapture?
Seek out a sea-hearted one, a soul who leads the way.
That one who steered you toward a heart of stone —
O would that his own foot had struck against a rock!
Had another traced the design in Hafez's manner,
he'd have won the favour of the art-fostering king.