Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 394
O you whose moon-vista face is the very freshspring of beauty,
your mole and down are the centre of beauty and beauty's turning orbit.
Within your languid, wine-drenched eye lies hidden the spell of magic;
within your restless, wandering tress stands manifest the repose of beauty.
No moon has shone, as you have shone, from out the tower of comeliness;
no cypress rose, as rose your stature, from the streamlet of beauty.
The season of heart-ravishing grew glad because of your sweet grace;
the age of beauty grew auspicious because of your delicate charm.
From the snare of your tress and the grain of your mole, in all the world,
not one poor bird of a heart remained but became the quarry of beauty.
Forever, by the grace of Nature the nurse, out of the soul's own core,
beauty tenderly cradles and nurtures you within its own embrace.
The violet about your lip is fresh and moist for this one cause:
that it drinks the Water of Life forever from the streamlet of beauty.
Hafez has cut off all his longing to look upon your like;
there is no clime but your fair cheek in all the realm of beauty.