Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 457
A thousand efforts I made, that you might be my Friend,
that you might grant the wish of this restless heart.
That you might be the lamp of my sleepless eye by night,
the intimate companion of my hopeful mind.
Since the Khosrows of grace take pride in their slaves,
would that you, among them, might be my sovereign lord.
Of that carnelian lip whose wiles have turned my heart to blood —
should I make my complaint, would you were my griefeaser.
In that meadow where the idols take the lovers' hand,
if it lie in your power, be my idol there.
Would you might come one night to the lovers' hut of sorrows,
and be a moment the companion of my mourning heart.
The sun's own gazelle would fall my emaciated prey,
if a gazelle like you were, one breath, my quarry.
The three kisses you set as my stipend from your two lips —
if you pay them not, then you remain my debtor.
May I win this wish for myself: that, one midnight,
in place of the flowing tear, you were at my side.
Though I am the Hafez of the city, I'm worth not a grain,
unless you, of your own bounty, will be my Friend.