Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 373
Rise, that we may bear the Sufi's cloak away to the tavern's floor,
and bear our ecstatic cries and feigned wonders to the bazaar of idle myth.
Toward the qalandar rogues, as a traveller's gift brought home,
we bear the Bastami mantle and the prayer-mat of pretence.
That all the cloistered recluses may lift the cup of dawn,
we bear the dawn-harp to the door of the Elder of supplication.
That covenant we sealed with you within the blessed vale of Ayman,
like Moses crying 'Show Thyself!' we bear it to the tryst.
We beat the drum of your renown on the battlements of the Throne;
we bear the banner of your love to the very roof of the heavens.
The dust of your street, on Resurrection's plain tomorrow at the dawn,
we bear it all upon the crown of the head for glory's sake.
And should the ascetic lay the thorn of blame across our road,
from his rose-garden we shall bear him to the prison-house of requital.
Shame be upon us from our own defiled and woollen cloak,
if with such merit and such art we bear the name of working wonders.
If the heart know not the worth of the hour, and no true deed perform,
how deep the shame that we shall bear away from this profit of the hours.
Sedition rains from this fretted, star-vaulted roof — arise,
that to the tavern we may bear our refuge from every affliction.
In the wasteland of annihilation, how long lost and astray? —
let us ask the road, that we may trace at last our vital ends.
Hafez, pour not the water of your face at every base one's door;
that need is better borne by us before the Judge of every need.