Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 398
O light of my eye, hear one word — lend me your ear;
your goblet brims: so give me drink, and drink yourself.
On love's road Ahriman's temptations lie in wait;
press on, and turn your heart's ear to Surush's word.
The stuff of song is spoilt, no instrument of mirth remains;
O harp, draw out your wail — O tambourine, cry out.
Rosary and frock will never grant you the taste of wine;
this high resolve seek only from the seller of wine.
The old speak out of trial — I have told you this;
ho, boy — that you may grow old too, give ear to counsel.
Love laid no chain upon the coldly clever mind;
would you draw the Friend's tress? Then cast your wits away.
With friends there is no stinting of one's life or wealth;
a hundred souls be the Friend's ransom — heed this counsel.
Cupbearer, may your cup ne'er lack the limpid wine;
cast one glance of grace on me, who drinks the dregs.
Drunk, when you sweep past in your gold-brocaded robe,
vow a single kiss to Hafez, the wearer of wool.