Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 168
The soul dissolved that the heart's whole desire might be fulfilled — and it was not;
we burned to ash in this unripened longing — and it was not.
In coaxing, one night she vowed, 'I'll be the prince of your assembly';
gladly I made myself her meanest slave — and it was not.
She sent me word, 'I mean to sit among the rogues and roisterers';
in name I turned to rogue's ways and to draining the last dregs — and it was not.
No wonder if within my breast the dove of the heart still flutters,
for on its road it glimpsed the snare's dread coil and twist — and was not saved.
In that longing — drunk, to press one kiss upon that ruby lip —
what blood welled up within my heart, brimful as the cup — and it was not.
Set no foot without a guide upon the lane of love,
for I of my own self made a hundred trials — and it was not.
Alas that, seeking out the treasure-scroll of my desire,
I became a whole world's ruin in my grief — and it was not.
Grief and rue, that hunting the treasure of the Presence within,
far I went in beggary before the noble — and it was not.
A thousand stratagems Hafez conjured from the depths of thought,
in that vain hope of gentling that wild idol — and it was not.