Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 49
The garden of highest paradise is the dervishes' retreat;
the very substance of grandeur is service to the dervishes.
The treasure of seclusion, that holds its wondrous talismans —
its unlocking lies in the merciful gaze of the dervishes.
The palace of Eden, where Rizwan stands as porter at the gate,
is but one glimpse from the pleasure-meadow of the dervishes.
That black base metal which turns to gold beneath its ray
is an alchemy that dwells in the company of the dervishes.
That before which the sun lays down the crown of pride
is a majesty that dwells in the pomp of the dervishes.
A fortune that harbours no dread of the stroke of decline —
hear it plainly — that is the fortune of the dervishes.
Kings are the qibla toward which the world turns its needs; yet
the cause of it is their bondage at the court of the dervishes.
The face of the goal that monarchs seek in prayer —
its mirror of showing-forth is the countenance of the dervishes.
From shore to shore stretches the army of tyranny; yet
from eternity to eternity endures the season of the dervishes.
O rich one, vaunt not all this arrogance, for your
head and your gold lie in the keeping of the dervishes' aspiration.
The treasure of Korah, that sinks down still from wrath —
you will have read that this too is from the zeal of the dervishes.
Hafez, if you crave the eternal Water of Life,
its wellspring is the dust at the door of the dervishes' retreat.
I am the slave of the gaze of the age's Asaf, who bears
the form of lordship and the character of the dervishes.