Ghazal 155

If I follow her, she stirs up sedition —

if I stop pursuing, she rises in enmity.

And if on the road, for one moment, out of faithfulness,

I fall behind her like dust, she flees like the wind.

And if I seek half a kiss — a hundred sighs —

from the casket of her mouth, sugar pours forth.

The enchantment I see in your narcissus eye

will mix much honor with the dust of the road.

The ups and downs of love's desert are a snare of affliction —

where is the lion-heart that does not shrink from calamity?

Seek long life and patience, for the juggling sky

will stir up a thousand tricks more wondrous than these.

Lay your head on the threshold of submission, Hafez,

for if you resist, time will resist you.