Un presagio da Hafez
Ghazal 80
Cast no reproach on the rends, O ascetic of unstained soul,
for the sins of others will not be entered against your name.
Whether I am good or ill, go your way, tend to yourself;
each man at the last reaps in the harvest whatever he sowed.
All men are seekers of the Friend — the sober and the drunk;
every place is the house of love — the mosque no less than the shrine.
The head of my submission, and the brick of the tavern doors;
if the pretender grasps not the words — say: my head and the brick.
Rob me not of hope in the primal grace of eternity;
what can you know, behind the veil, who is comely and who is foul?
Not I alone am the one who slipped from the veil of restraint;
my forefather too let slip the eternal paradise from his hands.
O Hafez, if on the day of death you hold a cup in hand,
straight from the tavern-lane they will bear you into paradise.