Poem #149

My heart takes no path but love of the moon-faced fair

I advise it from every door, but it takes no care.

For God's sake, Advisor, speak of the cup and wine

for no better image takes in this mind of mine.

Come, rose-cheeked Saki, bring the wine so bright

for no better thought takes hold in our light.

I drink secretly, and people think it a book

wonder that this fire doesn't take the book in its nook!

I'll burn this patched cloak one day, it's true

for the Wine-seller won't take it for a cup, nor do.

Friends find purity in Her ruby wine's grace

for naught but Truth takes form in that essence's place.

Such a heart-stealing head and eye, you say 'Look away'?

Go, for this sermon takes no hold in my head today.

The advisor of libertines wars with Fate's decree

I see his heart is narrow, unless the cup takes he.

I laugh amidst weeping, for like a candle here

I have a tongue of fire, but it takes no ear.

What a catch of my heart you made! I praise your eye

no one takes wild birds better, beneath the sky.

The word is of our need and Her disdain

what use is magic, Heart? It takes not in Her domain.

I'll take that mirror one day, Alexander-wise

if this fire takes hold sometimes, or dies.

Mercy, O Benefactor! For the dervish at your door

knows no other gate, takes no other path anymore.

With this sweet verse, I wonder at the King

why he doesn't take Hafez in gold, everything.