An omen from Hafez
Ghazal 90
O hoopoe of the breeze, to Sheba I send you forth;
behold from where, and unto where, I send you on your way.
It is a pity a bird like you should dwell in the dust-heap of grief;
from here to the nest of faithfulness I send you on your way.
Upon the road of love there is no stage of near or far;
I see you plain before me, and a prayer I send to you.
Each morning and each evening a caravan of blessings,
in the company of the north wind and the breeze, I send to you.
Lest the army of your grief lay waste the kingdom of the heart,
my own dear soul, as an offering, I send to you.
O you, hidden from the eye, who have become the heart's own comrade,
I speak to you my prayer and praise, and send it forth to you.
In your own face contemplate the wonder of God's making,
for a mirror that reveals the Divine I send to you.
That the minstrels may bear you tidings of my longing,
song and ghazal, with harp and strain, I send to you.
Cupbearer, come — the unseen herald gave me glad tidings:
'Endure your pain with patience, for the cure I send to you.'
O Hafez, the song of our gathering is your good remembrance;
hasten now — for a steed and a robe I send to you.