An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 5
The heart slips from my hand — O masters of the heart, for God's sake!
Alas, the hidden secret will soon be laid bare.
We are the shipwrecked ones; rise up, O favoring wind,
that I may look once more upon the well-known face.
The ten-day kindness of the wheeling sphere is fable and spell;
count it a chance, my friend, to do some good to friends.
Last night, in the ring of rose and wine, sweetly the nightingale sang:
'Bring the morning cup — awake, O you drunkards!'
O gracious one, in thanks for your own untroubled estate,
one day inquire after the destitute dervish.
The peace of both worlds is the gloss of these two words:
with friends, open-handedness; with foes, forbearance.
In the lane of good name they gave us no passage;
if this displeases you, then alter fate itself.
That bitter draught the Sufi named 'the mother of all vices'
is dearer to us, and sweeter, than a virgin's kiss.
In the hour of want, strive after mirth and wine,
for this alchemy of being makes a Korah of a beggar.
Be not defiant, lest like a candle her ardor consume you —
she in whose hand the hardest granite is soft as wax.
Alexander's world-revealing mirror is the cup of wine — behold it,
that it show you the fortunes of the realm of Darius.
The Persian-speaking fair ones are bestowers of life;
cupbearer, bring the glad news to the pious rends.
Not by his own will did Hafez don this wine-stained cloak;
O clean-skirted shaikh, hold us excused.