Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 116
He who keeps the beauty and the down of the Friend before his eyes
has truly reaped the very harvest of sight.
Like a pen, on the road of His command, we have laid down
the head of obedience — unless He raise it with the sword.
He found, like the candle, the moth of union with you,
who bears each moment a fresh head beneath your blade.
That hand alone attained the kiss of your foot
which, like the threshold, keeps its head at this door forever.
I am wearied of dry piety — where is the pure wine?
for the scent of wine keeps my mind forever fresh.
If you have nothing of wine — is this not enough: that for a breath
it keeps you free of the whispering temptation of reason?
One who never set a foot beyond the path of abstinence
now sets his whole journey toward the tavern-door.
The broken heart of Hafez will carry down to the dust,
like the tulip, the brand of longing seared upon its core.