Ghazal 314

Last night the sickness of your eye took me from my own hand —

but from the kindness of your lip I was binding the form of the soul.

My love for your musky down is not of today —

it has been long since I became drunk from this crescent cup.

From my own steadfastness this point pleased me: that through cruelty,

at the head of your lane I did not sit down from the foot of seeking.

Do not expect peace from me, the tavern-dweller —

for I have claimed service to the rends as long as I exist.

On the path of love, beyond annihilation, a hundred dangers lie —

so do not say that when my life came to its end, I was free.

After this, what care have I for the crooked arrow of the envious? —

for I have joined my bow-browed beloved.

A kiss on the casket of your carnelian is lawful for me —

for despite taunts and cruelty, I did not break the seal of fidelity.

A soldierly idol plundered my heart and left —

alas, if the king's mercy does not take my hand.

The rank of Hafez's knowledge had risen to the sky —

but yearning for your tall cypress brought me low.