Poem #219

Now that the rose has come from nothingness to being's bloom

the violet bows her head in prostration at its royal plume.

Drink the dawn wine to tambourine and harp's lamenting cry

kiss the Cupbearer's chin while reed and lute their melodies ply.

Don't sit in rose season without wine, beauty, and harp's sound

for like eternity's span, these weeks are numbered and soon unbound.

The earth grew bright as heaven when fragrant flowers came to view

with auspicious stars ascending and fortune's prospects new.

Take wine from the delicate-cheeked witness with Christ's life-giving breath

abandon tales of 'Ad and Thamud, those ancient tribes of death.

The world becomes like highest paradise midst lily and rose season bright

but what good, when permanence within it is beyond our sight?

When the rose rides the air like Solomon upon the breeze

and dawn birds sing with David's psalms among the budding trees.

Renew in the garden Zoroaster's ancient sacred rite divine

now that the tulip kindles Nimrod's fire with crimson sign.

Seek the dawn cup in memory of Asaf of the covenant true

Solomon's vizier, faith's pillar, the noble Mahmud, honor due.

May Hafez's gathering, blessed by his patron's gracious care

find present all it seeks, each wish and hope and prayer.