Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 477
Two clever friends, and two measures of aged wine;
a leisured hour, a book, and a corner of the meadow.
This station I would not trade for this world or the next,
though every moment a whole throng gave chase to me.
Whoever bartered contentment's corner for the world's treasure
sold the Joseph of Egypt for the meanest price.
Come — the luster of this workshop is not diminished
by an asceticism like yours, or a debauchery like mine.
From the fierce wind of chance one can no longer see,
in this meadow, that rose or jasmine ever bloomed.
Behold in the mirror of the cup the tracery of the unseen,
for no one recalls a time so strange as this.
From these scorching blasts that swept the garden's edge,
it is a wonder there is still a rose's scent, an eglantine's hue.
Strive at patience, O heart, for God will not abandon
so precious a seal-ring to the hand of an Ahriman.
The temper of the age has soured in this calamity, Hafez;
where is a sage's thought, a Brahmin's counsel now?