Ghazal 94

From that heart-soothing beloved, there is gratitude mixed with complaint —

if you understand the subtleties of love, listen to this tale.

Every service I performed was without reward or thanks —

O Lord, may no one have a master without grace.

To the thirsty-lipped rends, no one offers a drink —

as if those who recognize saints have left this land.

In those lasso-like tresses, O heart, do not entangle yourself,

for there you will see severed heads, without crime or offense.

Your eye, with a glance, drank our blood and you approved it —

O soul, it is not right to shelter a blood-spiller.

In this dark night, I have lost the way to my goal —

come forth from some corner, O star of guidance.

From every direction I went, nothing but dread increased —

beware of this desert and this endless road.

O sun of beauties, my insides are boiling —

for one hour shelter me in the shade of your grace.

How can one imagine an end to this path,

when a hundred thousand stations more lie at its beginning?

Though you took my honor, I will not turn my face from your door —

cruelty from the beloved is sweeter than kindness from the pretender.

Your love will come to the rescue, even if, like Hafez,

you recite the Quran by heart in fourteen readings.