Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 146
At dawn the breeze kept bearing in a fragrance from the loved one's tress,
and by that scent alone it set our reeling heart to work anew.
That cypress-form I tore up by the roots from the garden of my eye,
for every rose that grief for it brought forth was bearing loads of woe.
I watched the moon's light shining clear from the rooftop of her hall,
who, out of shame before that sun, kept drawing her face into the wall.
For fear of the plunder of her love I let my blood-filled heart go free;
yet still it went on shedding blood and turning down that self-same road.
At the word of minstrel and of cupbearer I went out, timely and untimely,
for down that arduous road the courier could scarcely bring me word.
The loved one's every gift, from end to end, was pure grace and pure bounty,
whether she bade me tell the rosary or bound the heathen's girdle on.
God pardon the frown upon her brow — though it has left me helpless,
with one coy glance it still would bear a message to the sick man's bed.
I marvelled at the cup and measure of Hafez last night;
yet I forbade him not — for like a Sufi he was bearing it.