Ghazal 37

Come, for the palace of hope is most unsteady in its foundation —

bring wine, for the foundation of life rests upon the wind.

I am the servant of the resolve of that one who beneath the blue sky

is free of everything that takes on the color of attachment.

What shall I tell you? Last night in the tavern, drunk and ruined,

the angel of the unseen world gave me such glad tidings:

O lofty-gazing royal falcon, perched upon the Lote Tree —

this corner of affliction is not your dwelling place.

They whistle to you from the ramparts of the Throne —

I do not know what has befallen you in this snare.

Let me give you counsel — remember it and act upon it,

for this saying I remember from the elder of the path:

Do not grieve for the world, and do not forget my advice,

for this subtlety of love I remember from a fellow traveler:

Be content with what is given, and unknot your brow,

for the door of choice does not open for you or me.

Do not seek faithfulness from this weak-natured world,

for this old hag has been the bride of a thousand grooms.

There is no sign of pledge or loyalty in the rose’s smile —

lament, O heartless nightingale, for this is the place to cry.

Why do you envy Hafez, O you of feeble verse?

The heart’s acceptance and grace of speech are God-given.