Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 194
The jasmine-breathing ones, when seated, still the drifting dust of grief;
the fairy-faced, when they contend, snatch all repose from out the heart.
To the saddle-thong of cruelty, when they bind hearts, they bind them fast;
from the amber coil of their dark hair, when souls are loosed, they scatter them.
A single breath in a whole life, they sit with us, then rise and go;
the sapling of desire in the mind, as they arise, they plant and leave.
The tears of those who keep the nook, when they perceive them, they perceive;
the face of love from dawn-risers they turn not away—if they but knew.
From out my eye, twin ruby seeds—when they but laugh, they rain them down;
upon my face, the hidden secret—when they but look, they read it plain.
The cure of the poor lover's pain—whoever counts it lightly won—
the very thought of those who toil at healing leaves them dumb and lost.
Like Mansur, of the deep desire of those they lift, they lift on high;
to this same threshold, when they call their Hafez in, they drive him forth.
Within this Presence, when the yearning bring their prayer, they bring their grace;
for with this pain, if bound to seek a cure, they must remain undone.