Ghazal 56

The heart is the pavilion of love for Him —

the eye is the mirror-holder of His face.

I, who would not bow my head to two worlds,

have my neck beneath the burden of His grace.

You and the Tuba tree, and we and the beloved’s stature —

each one’s thought is according to the measure of his aspiration.

If I am stained of skirt, what wonder —

the whole world bears witness to His purity.

Who am I, in that sanctuary where the breeze

is the curtain-keeper of His sacred privacy?

May the image of Him never be absent from my eye’s prospect,

for this corner is the place of His retreat.

Every fresh rose that adorns the garden

is colored and scented by His company.

The age of Majnun has passed and now it is our turn —

each person has their five days; now it is our turn.

The realm of love and the treasure of joy —

all that I have is from the blessing of His resolve.

If I and my heart are sacrificed, what matter?

The aim between us is His well-being.

Do not look at the outward poverty, for Hafez’s breast

is a treasury of love for Him.