An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 469
“The scents of the sanctuary's arak have come, and my passion has swelled”;
may my precious soul be a sacrifice to the dust of the Friend's threshold.
To hear the Friend's message is felicity and peace;
“who will carry from me my greeting to Su‘ad?”
Come, on the strangers' eve, and behold the water of my eyes,
like clear wine within a Syrian goblet.
“When a bird of good omen sings from the arak-tree,
let not my dove's lament be absent from its meadow.”
Little now remains till the day of parting ends;
“I saw, from the sanctuary's hills, the domes of the tents.”
Sweet the moment you enter, and I say: “Welcome —
yours the fairest of comings, yours the fairest of stations.”
“I grew far from you, and I have melted thin as the crescent”;
though I have not beheld your moon-bright face in its fullness.
“And were I summoned to Eden, and broke my covenant with you,
my soul would find no gladness, nor my slumber any sweetness.”
There is hope that soon, in good fortune, I shall see you —
you gladdened in your commanding, and I in my service.
Like a strand of lustrous pearls is your exquisite verse, Hafez,
which in its hour of grace outstrips the very song of Nizami.