Poem #493

O King of Beauties, grant me right against this lonely pain

My heart is dying without you; come back, come back again!

The garden rose remains not fresh forever in its bloom

Help those who weak and helpless lie, before you reach the tomb.

Last night I told the wind my grief about your flowing hair

It said, "You err! Give up this thought, this madness and despair."

A hundred morning breezes dance within those chains of curls

This is your company, O heart, while wind around you whirls.

Longing and absence from your side have brought me to a state

That patience' ford is washed away by floods of cruel fate.

O Lord, to whom can I explain this marvel, strange and new

That though the Witness is everywhere, He hides from human view.

Saqi, the rose-garden is pale without your cheek's red fire

Walk like the box-tree, grace the grove, and fulfill our desire.

Your pain is my sole remedy upon this bed of woe

Your memory my only friend when lonely hours pass slow.

Within the circle of our fate, we are the central point

We yield to what You think is kind, to what You may appoint.

In the religion of the free, self-will has got no place

To see oneself, to judge oneself, is sin and leads to base.

My liver bleeds from this blue wheel that turns above my head

Give wine! That I may solve the riddle in the glass of red.

Hafez! The night of parting ends, the scent of union blows

Blessed be your joy, O frantic one! The thorn has turned to rose.