An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 440
At dawn I told the wind the story of my longing;
a voice replied: 'Trust firm in the graces of the Lord.'
The dawn-prayer and the night-sigh unlock the treasure sought;
go by this road and manner, and reach the heart-holder.
The pen has no such tongue to tell love's secret plain;
beyond the bound of speech lies the tale of all this longing.
Ho, Joseph of Egypt, whom rule has made so proud,
ask after your father: where fled a son's own love?
The old world, coquette that she is, holds no ruth in her nature;
what do you ask of her love? On what pin your hopes in her?
A Huma lofty as you — how long this greed for a bone?
A pity, that shade of grandeur you cast on the unworthy.
In this bazaar, if profit there be, it lies with the content dervish;
O God, make me rich in dervishhood and in content.
To Hafez of Shiraz's verse they sway and take their pride —
the dark-eyed ones of Kashmir, the Turks of Samarkand.