Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 256
I offer you a counsel—hear it, and seek no excuse;
whatever a kindly counsellor tells you, take to heart.
Gather some joy from union with the fresh of face,
for in the ambush of our days lurks the old world's guile.
Before true lovers, both worlds' bounties fetch a barleycorn:
this merchandise is meagre, that gift beyond all price.
A sweet companion and a well-tuned lute are my desire,
to tell my grief in the low string's moan and the high string's cry.
I am resolved to touch no wine and commit no sin—
if only Destiny would fall in step with my design.
Since the eternal lots were cast without our being asked,
cavil not if the portion sits a little ill with you.
Like the tulip's cup, O cupbearer, pour wine and musk in mine,
for the tracing of my idol's mole will not leave my mind.
Bring the pearl-strewing goblet, cupbearer, and to the envious
say: behold an Asaf's bounty—and expire of spite.
Vowing repentance, I set the cup down a hundred times,
yet the cupbearer's coquetry commits no oversight.
Two-year-old wine and a beloved of fourteen years—
this is enough for me: the company of small and great.
Our startled heart—who is it leads it on ahead?
Carry word of the chain to the worn, love-maddened one.
Speak no tale of repentance at this feast, O Hafez,
lest the cupbearers take your bow-shaped brow for a target of their darts.