Poem #224

Blessed is the heart that doesn't chase each fleeting glance or gaze

and never answers every door's call unaware of its ways.

Better not to desire those sweet lips, I'm well aware

but how can flies resist pursuing sugar in the air?

Don't wash my grief-worn eyes' dark circles with your tears

for your beauty mark's design shall never disappear.

Like the morning breeze, don't keep your fragrance from my way

for without your tresses' scent, nothing goes well in my day.

O heart, don't wander aimless everywhere with restless art

for no worthy work will ever come from such a scattered heart.

Don't look with scornful eyes upon me in my drunken state

for religion's honor won't be lost to such a measured fate.

I, a beggar, desire a cypress-tall beauty so divine

whose waist admits no hand unless it bears silver or gold to shine.

You whose noble character creates a world apart and new

may my covenant's fidelity ne'er slip from memory's view.

I see none with blacker record than myself in history's book

how could my pen not carry heart's smoke to my head with every look?

Don't dismiss my hoopoe's crown along the way you tread

for white falcons, when they hunt, don't chase mere scraps of bread.

Bring wine and give it first to Hafez's waiting hand

on condition that our words stay in this room and don't expand.