Poem #350

At dawn I sought an omen, to repent and turn away

but Spring has come to break my vows—what can I say?

I cannot speak the truth, nor bear the sight I see

my rivals drink the wine, while watching falls to me.

Like a laughing bud, remembering the King's feast

I take the cup, my robe by longing's hand is creased.

If I withdraw from this assembly of delight

cure my mad brain with tulips red and bright.

Since the Friend's face bloomed like a rose for me

I cast my enemy's head to the stone of misery.

I am the tavern's beggar, but see my drunken state

I rule the stars and command the wheel of Fate.

I have no way with abstinence or pious food

why should I blame the rogue who finds the vintage good?

I seat my Idol on the rose's throne like a king

and of her hyacinth curls, a collar I will bring.

Hafez is weary of drinking wine in secret fear

with harp and flute, I'll make my secret clear.