Ghazal 492

A greeting like the sweet scent of familiarity —

to those people who are the eye of illumination.

A salutation like the light of the pious heart —

to that candle of the chamber of piety.

I do not see any of my companions in their place —

my heart turned to blood from grief — cupbearer, where are you?

Do not turn your face from the lane of the Magians — for there

they sell the key to opening difficulties.

The bride of the world, though beautiful in her limits,

exceeds all limits in the manner of faithlessness.

My broken heart, if it has any aspiration,

will not seek a healing salve from the stone-hearted.

Where do they sell the Sufi-felling wine? —

for I am burning from the hand of hypocritical piety.

Friends so broke the covenant of companionship

that you would say there never was a familiarity.

If you release me, O greedy self —

I will practice much sovereignty in begging.

I will teach you the alchemy of happiness:

from a bad companion — separation, separation.

Hafez, do not complain of the cruelty of the age —

what do you know, O servant, of the work of God?