Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 388
Spring and the rose have turned joy-stirring, and breakers of the vow;
at the gladness of the rose's face, uproot the root of grief from your heart.
The dawn breeze came; the bud, all rapt in its devotion,
went clean out of itself, and rent its own shirt upon its breast.
Learn the way of sincerity from the clear, untroubled water of the heart;
in very truth, seek out true freedom from the cypress of the meadow.
From the breeze's plundering hand, behold the curl about the rose;
see the coiling of the hyacinth's tress upon the jasmine's face.
The bride of the bud has come from the sanctuary at a fortunate hour;
it bears off heart and faith outright by the beauty of its face.
The whistle of the frenzied nightingale and the wail of a thousand birds
came forth from the House of Grief for the sake of union with the rose.
Speak out the tale of the company of the fair and the cup of wine,
by the word of Hafez and the edict of the Elder skilled in the art.