Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 43
The garden's court gives rapture, the converse of friends is sweet;
sweet be the rose's hour, for from it the wine-drinkers' hour is sweet.
From the breeze, moment by moment, our soul's own scent grows sweet;
yea, yea — the fragrant breathing of those who love is sweet.
Unopened yet, the rose struck up the strain of departure;
lament, O nightingale, for the plaint of the heart-stricken is sweet.
Glad tidings to the sweet-singing bird: upon the road of love
the Friend delights in the night-long wailing of the wakeful.
No gladness is to be had in the world's bazaar; and if there be,
it is the rend's own way, the blithe good cheer of the free.
From the tongue of the noble lily this reached my ear:
'In this ancient cloister the way of the lightly-burdened is sweet.'
Hafez, to renounce the world is the road to gladness of heart;
think not the state of the world's own lords is sweet.