Poem #335

Should I pass the Magian tavern's gate again

I'd cast my cloak and prayer rug down without refrain.

If like austere ascetics I knock at penance' ring

tomorrow the tavern keeper will refuse me everything.

Should I like the moth gain leave to freely fly

to that candle-face alone will every flight path lie.

I crave no houri's company, for it would be a fault

to toy with others while your image holds me in its vault.

Your passion's secret would have slumbered in my heart

had not my trembling eyes betrayed the tale apart.

I flew like a bird from the dusty cage into the sky

hoping my kingly falcon there would seize me flying high.

If you refuse to hold me like a harp and soothe my heart

then from your lips allow me play one breath like reeds impart.

I whisper not the tale of my blood-soaked heart to men

for none save grief's own sword of yours is confidant or friend.

If every hair on Hafez' frame held yet another head

like your twisting locks I'd cast them all before your tread.