Ghazal 92

My prince, you walk so sweetly — I die for you from head to foot.

Walk gracefully, for before your swaying stature I die for you.

You had said: When will you die before me? What is the hurry?

What a sweet demand you make — before your demands I die for you.

I am a lover, hungover, and banished — where is the idol-cupbearer?

Tell her to come swaying forth, for before that tall cypress I die for you.

She for whom I have been sick a lifetime with longing —

tell her: cast a glance, for before those languorous eyes I die for you.

You said: My ruby lip both gives pain and gives the cure —

now before the pain, now before the cure, I die for you.

You walk so gracefully — may the evil eye be far from your face —

I hold in my head the fancy that at your feet I die for you.

Though Hafez has no place in the privacy of your union —

O you whose every place is sweet, before every place I die for you.