Poem #157

Whoever has the madness of Your green line above

will never step outside this circle while they love.

When I rise tulip-like from the grave's dust deep

the brand of Your madness will be my black heart's secret to keep.

O unique Gem, where are You in the end

For Your grief turns every human eye to sea without Friend.

From each lash streams run; come if You desire

to watch the brook's lip and the view You require.

Like rose and wine, emerge from the veil a while

for another meeting may not appear in any mile.

May Your tress's curving shadow rest upon my head

for in this shade the maddened heart finds its bed.

Your eye won't turn to Hafez from coquetry's sway

yes, distraction is the lovely narcissus's way.