The Persian Literature Volume I Part 47

My heart and faith, my heart and faith--of old they were unharmed, Till by yon shoulders and yon breast, yon breast and shoulders charmed.

Hafiz, a medicine for thy woe, A medicine must thou sip, No other than that lip so sweet, That lip so sweet, that lip.

Cx.x.xIV

Although upon his moon-like cheek delight and beauty glow, Nor constancy nor love is there: O Lord! these gifts bestow.

A child makes war against my heart; and he in sport one day Will put me to a cruel death, and law shall not gainsay.

What seems for my own good is this: my heart from him to guard; For one who knows not good from ill its guardianship were hard.

Agile and sweet of fourteen years that idol whom I praise: His ear-rings in her soul retains the moon of fourteen days.

A breath as the sweet smell of milk comes from those sugary lips; But from those black and roguish eyes behold what blood there drips!

My heart to find that new-born rose has gone upon its way; But where can it be found, O Lord? I've lost it many a day.

If the young friend who owns my heart my centre thus can break, The Pasha will command him soon the lifeguard's rank to take.

I'd sacrifice my life in thanks, If once that pearl of sheen Would make the sh.e.l.l of Hafiz' eye Its place of rest serene.

Cx.x.xV

I tried my fortune in this city lorn: From out its whirlpool must my pack be borne.

I gnaw my hand, and, heaving sighs of ire, I light in my rent frame the rose's fire.

Sweet sang the bulbul at the close of day, The rose attentive on her leafy spray:

"O heart! be joyful, for thy ruthless Love Sits down ill-temper'd at the sphere above.

"To make the false, harsh world thyself pa.s.s o'er, Ne'er promise falsely and be harsh no more.

"If beat misfortune's waves upon heaven's roof, Devout men's fate and gear bide ocean-proof.

"Hafiz, if lasting Were enjoyment's day, Jem's throne would never Have been swept away."

CXLV

Breeze of the North, thy news allays my fears: The hour of meeting with my Loved one nears.

Prospered by Heaven, O carrier pigeon, fly: Hail to thee, hail to thee, come nigh, come nigh!

How fares our Salma? What Zu Salam's state?

Our neighbors there--are they unscathed by Fate?

The once gay banquet-hall is now devoid Of circling goblets, and of friends who joyed.

Perished the mansion with its lot serene: Interrogate the mounds where once 'twas seen.

The night of absence has now cast its shade: What freaks by Fancy's night-gang will be played?

He who has loved relates an endless tale: Here the most eloquent of tongues must fail.

My Turk's kind glances no one can obtain: Alas, this pride, this coldness, this disdain!

In perfect beauty did thy wish draw nigh: G.o.d guard thee from Kamal's malefic eye![44]

Hafiz, long will last Patience, love, and pain?

Lovers wail is sweet: Do thou still complain.

CXLVI

O thou who hast ravished my heart by thine exquisite grace and thy shape, Thou carest for no one, and yet not a soul from thyself can escape.

At times I draw sighs from my heart, and at times, O my life, thy sharp dart: Can aught I may say represent all the ills I endure from my heart?

How durst I to rivals commend thy sweet lips by the ruby's tent gemmed, When words that are vivid in hue by a soul unrefined are contemned?

As strength to thy beauty accrues ev'ry day from the day sped before, To features consummate as thine, will we liken the night-star no more.

My heart hast thou reft: take my soul! For thine envoy of grief what pretence?

One perfect in grief as myself with collector as he may dispense.

O Hafiz, in Love's holy bane, As thy foot has at last made its way, Lay hold of his skirt with thy hand, And with all sever ties from to-day.

CXLIX

Both worlds, the Transient and Eterne, for Saki and the Loved I'd yield: To me appears Love's satellite the universe's ample field.

Should a new favorite win my place, my ruler shall be still supreme: It were a sin should I my life more precious than my friend esteem.

CLV

Last night my tears, a torrent stream, stopped Sleep by force: I painted, musing on thy down, upon the water-course.

Then, viewing my Beloved one's brow--my cowl burnt up-- In honor of the sacred Arch I drained my flowing cup.