Ghazal 115

Plant the tree of friendship, that it may bring the heart's desire to fruit —

uproot the sapling of enmity, for it brings countless pains.

As a guest of the tavern, honor the rends,

for you'll get a headache, dear, if your drunkenness brings a hangover.

Count the night of companionship a windfall, for after our time

the wheel will turn much more, and bring many a day and night.

The camel-driver of Layla, whose litter holds the moon in its power —

for God's sake, put it in his heart to pass by Majnun.

Seek the spring of your life, O heart — otherwise, each year this garden

bears a hundred roses like eglantine, and a thousand nightingales.

For God's sake, since my wounded heart has made a pact with your tresses,

bid your sweet ruby lip to quickly bring it peace.

In this garden, in his old age, Hafez asks of God one more thing:

to sit beside a stream and hold a cypress in his arms.