Ghazal 16

The curve your bold eyebrow cast into its bow

was aimed to kill this feeble, wretched one.

There was no design of two worlds before the hue of love appeared —

time did not cast this pattern of affection only now.

With one coquettish glance the narcissus made in self-display,

the sorcery of your eye cast a hundred tumults in the world.

Wine-flushed and perspiring, you walk into the garden —

the glory of your face has set the Judas-tree aflame.

Last night in the garden’s banquet hall, drunk, I passed by —

and from your mouth the rosebud cast me into doubt.

The violet was knotting its own twisted curls

when the breeze brought the tale of your tresses into the midst.

In shame that I compared you to its face,

the jasmine, by the breeze’s hand, threw dust into its own mouth.

I had never seen wine and minstrels before, from piety —

the fancy of young Magian beauties cast me into this and that.

Now with the water of ruby wine I wash my cloak —

one cannot cast away the lot that was portioned in eternity.

Perhaps Hafez’s salvation lay in this very ruin,

for eternal grace cast him into the Magian’s wine.

Now the world shall turn to my desire, for the wheel of time

has cast me into the servitude of the lord of the world.