Ghazal 40

Thanks be to God that the tavern door is open,

for I have need to bow at that door.

The casks are all seething and roaring with intoxication,

and the wine within them is truth, not metaphor.

From Him comes all intoxication, pride, and grandeur —

from us comes only helplessness, weakness, and need.

The secret we have not told and will not tell to strangers,

we will tell to the friend, for the friend is keeper of secrets.

The tale of curl upon curl in the beloved’s tresses

cannot be cut short, for this story is long.

The burden of Majnun’s heart and the curve of Layla’s tress,

the cheek of Mahmud and the sole of Ayaz’s foot.

I have sewn shut my eyes like a hawk, from all the world,

so that my gaze is open only on your lovely face.

In the Ka’ba of your lane, whoever arrives

is in the very essence of prayer before the qibla of your brow.

O companions, ask the candle about the burning of poor Hafez’s heart,

for it too is in the midst of burning and melting.