Ghazal 425

Trailing her hem, she went in a gold-embroidered robe —

a hundred moon-faces, from envy, tore the collar of their garments.

From the heat of wine's fire, around her cheek, the sweat

dripped like drops of dew upon the rose-petal.

An eloquent, sweet speech — a tall, agile form —

a delicate, lovely face — a fine, elongated eye.

Her life-giving ruby was born from the water of grace —

her sweet-walking boxwood was nurtured in coquetry.

See that heart-stealing ruby lip, and that heart-stirring laughter —

and see that graceful walk, and that measured step.

That dark-eyed gazelle escaped our trap —

friends, what remedy shall I make for this frightened heart?

Beware — as long as you can, do not torment the people of vision —

the world has no fidelity, O light of both my eyes.

How long shall I bear your reproach? From your heart-stealing eye —

one day show a coquetry, O chosen beloved!

If your noble mind was offended by Hafez,

come back — for I have repented of what was said and heard.

Much gratitude I will say in the service of the master —

if that ripe fruit should fall into my hand.