Ghazal 157

Whoever has a desire for your green down —

their foot will not step outside this circle as long as they live.

When I rise from the dust of the grave like a tulip,

the brand of your love will be the secret of my heart's core.

O unique pearl — where are you, after all? —

for from grief for you, the eyes of all people are a sea.

From the base of each of my eyelashes flows a stream — come,

if you desire the edge of a brook and a view.

Like rose and wine, step out from behind the veil for a moment,

for another meeting may not be possible.

May the extended shadow of the curve of your tresses remain over my head,

for in this shade the mad heart finds its rest.

Your eye, from coquetry, does not incline toward Hafez — yes,

haughtiness is the nature of the graceful narcissus.