An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 475
The people said that you are the second Joseph;
when I looked closely — in truth, you are lovelier than he.
Sweeter you are than words can tell, with your sugared smile, so that I say:
O Khosrow of the fair, you are the Shirin of the age.
Your mouth cannot be likened to a rosebud;
never was a rosebud of so small a mouth.
A hundred times you vowed: “I grant you the wish of that mouth”;
like the free lily, why are you nothing but tongue?
You say: “I will grant your wish, and take your soul”;
I fear you grant no wish, and only take my soul.
Your eye drives its arrow clean through the shield of the soul;
who has seen a languid eye of so strong a bow?
Like a tear, you cast him from the people's eye,
the one you banish, but a moment, from your own sight.