Ghazal 4

O breeze, gently tell that graceful gazelle

that she has driven us to wander through mountain and desert.

O sugar-seller — may her life be long — why does she

never inquire after this sugar-craving parrot?

Did the pride of your beauty not grant you leave, O rose,

to ask after the lovesick nightingale?

With grace and gentleness one can capture the discerning heart —

with snares and traps you cannot catch a wise bird.

I do not know for what reason there is no sign of fellowship

among those tall, dark-eyed ones with moonlit faces.

When you sit with the beloved and measure out the wine,

remember those companions who drink only the wind.

Only this much can be said as fault in your beauty:

that the manner of love and loyalty does not grace a lovely face.

It would be no wonder if, in the heavens, by the words of Hafez,

the song of Venus should set the Messiah to dancing.