Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 488
At dawn the tavern's unseen herald, wishing me well,
said: “Come back, for you are an old friend of this court.”
Like Jam, drink our draught, that from the secret of both worlds
the ray of the world-revealing cup may grant you awareness.
At the tavern door are the qalandar rogues,
who bestow and withdraw the crown of the king of kings.
A brick beneath the head, a foot upon the crown of the seven stars;
behold the hand of power, the rank of a lord of station!
Our head, and the tavern door, whose roof-line
rose to the heavens — and the wall thus lowly and slight.
Cross not this stage without the fellowship of Khizr;
it is darkness — fear the peril of losing the way.
If they grant you the sovereignty of poverty, O heart,
your least domain will stretch from the moon to the fish.
You know not how to breathe the word of poverty — let not slip
the seat of lordship and the assembly of Turanshah.
Hafez of raw greed, take some shame from this tale:
what is your deed, that you desire the highest paradise?