Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 212
A cup or two, at yesterday's dawn, by chance came falling to my lot,
and from the lip of the cupbearer the wine dropped sweet upon my taste.
Still in my drunkenness I longed once more, with the beauty of my youth's own pledge,
to seek a wedded reconciling—yet the divorce had long since fallen.
In every station of the Path, wherever we made our wandering way,
between mere safe repose and gazing on the fair a parting yet had fallen.
Cupbearer, pour cup after cup, for on the journeying of the Path
whoever came not lover-like had fallen headlong into hypocrisy.
O reader of dreams, give glad tidings—for last night the very sun
in the sweet slumber of the dawn-draught had fallen to lodge with me as one.
I drew the design in my mind, to seize one corner of that drunken eye;
but strength and patience, at the arch of her brow, had crumbled quite away.
Had not Nusrat al-Din, Shah Yahya, out of his bounty lent his aid,
the whole affair of realm and faith had fallen from order and array.
Hafez, at that very hour in which he wrote this scattered, straying verse,
the bird of his own wandering thought had fallen into longing's snare.