Ghazal 110

In old age, the love of youth has seized my head,

and the secret I hid in my heart has come to light.

By the road of sight, my heart-bird took flight —

O eye, look well: into whose snare has it fallen?

Alas, from that musky, black-eyed gazelle,

like the musk-pod, much heart's blood has clotted in my liver.

From the dust of the road at the head of your lane

came every musk-pod that fell into the breeze of dawn.

Since your eyelashes drew their world-conquering sword,

many a slain-hearted one who yet lives has fallen upon another.

Much have we tested in this monastery of requital:

whoever fell in with the dregs-drinkers was raised up.

If a black stone gives up its life, it will not become a ruby —

what can one do with base original nature, if it was born ill-starred?

Hafez, who used to run his hand through the tresses of beauties —

what a wondrous player he is, now that this has befallen his head!