Ghazal 2

Where does the path of virtue lie, and where am I, so lost and broken?

See how vast the distance is, from where I stand to where I should be.

My heart grew weary of the mosque and this cloak of hypocrisy —

where is the Magian temple, and where is the pure wine?

What kinship do piety and virtue have with the way of the rend?

The preacher’s sermon — where? The melody of the lute — where?

What can the hearts of enemies grasp from the beloved’s face?

A lifeless lamp — where? The radiance of the sun — where?

Since the dust of your threshold is kohl for our seeing eyes,

where should we go? Command us — from this palace, where?

Do not gaze upon that chin’s apple, for a pit lies in the path —

where are you rushing, O heart, with such haste — where?

Gone! May the memory of those sweet days of union be blessed —

where did that coquettish glance go, and that tender rebuke — where?

Do not expect composure or sleep from Hafez, O friend —

what composure? What patience? And sleep — where?