Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 267
O breeze, if you pass by the banks of the river Aras,
kiss the dust of that valley, and make your breath all musk.
Salma's abode—on which be, each breath, a hundred greetings from us—
you will find loud with the camel-drivers' cries and the bell's clear ring.
Kiss the Beloved's litter, then, weeping, lay bare your plea:
'From your parting I am consumed, O kind one—come to my aid!'
I, who once called the counsellors' words the idle strum of the rebeck,
have taken such a wringing from parting that this lesson suffices.
Make merry before dawn, drink wine—for on the road of love
the night-farers keep acquaintance with the captain of the watch.
Love-play is no light play, O heart—gamble your very head,
for the ball of love is never struck with the mallet of caprice.
Gladly the heart yields up its soul to the Friend's drunken eye,
though the sober have never surrendered their will to anyone.
The parrots take their delight in the field of sugar-cane,
while, in its grief, the wretched fly beats its head with its hands.
If the name of Hafez should rise on the tongue of the Friend's pen,
from His Majesty's presence, this alone is prayer enough.