Ghazal 457

A thousand efforts I made that you would be my beloved —

that you would grant the desire of my restless heart.

That you would become the lamp of my night-vigil eye —

the companion of my hopeful mind.

As the sovereigns of grace are proud before their servants,

you, among them, would be my lord.

From that ruby from whose coquetry my heart bleeds —

if I utter a complaint, you would be my grief-dispeller.

In that garden where beauties take the hands of lovers —

if it is in your power, you would be my beloved.

One night you would come to the cottage of the lovers' sorrows —

for a moment you would be the companion of my mourning heart.

The gazelle of the sun would become the prey of my thin self —

if a gazelle like you were for one moment my quarry.

The three kisses you have assigned me from your two lips —

if you do not deliver them, you will be my debtor.

I will see this desire fulfilled — that at midnight

in place of flowing tears, you would be in my embrace.

Though I am the Hafez of the city, I am not worth a barley-grain —

unless you, from your own generosity, would be my friend.