Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 316
Give not your tress to the wind, lest you give me to the wind;
lay not the ground of coquetry, lest you undo my ground.
Drink not wine with all the world, lest I eat my liver's blood;
toss not your head, lest my cry toss its head up to the sky.
Coil not your tress into a ring, lest you bind me fast;
twist not your forelock, lest you give me to the wind.
Turn not a stranger-friend, lest you tear me from myself;
grieve not for rivals, lest you make me joyless.
Kindle your cheek, that you may free me from the rose-petal;
raise up your stature, that you may free me from the cypress.
Become not the candle of every gathering, else you will burn us;
remember not every people, lest you slip from my memory.
Grow not famed through the city, lest I lay my head toward the mountain;
stir not sweet tumult, lest you make me your Farhad.
Have mercy on me, the wretched, and come to my cry,
before my cry can reach the dust of Asaf's door.
Far be it that Hafez turn his face from your cruelty;
from the very day I am bound to you, I am set free.