Poems from the Divan of Hafiz 20

From out the street of So-and-So, Oh wind, bring perfumes sweet to me! For I am sick and pale with woe; Oh bring me rest from misery! The dust that lies before her door, Love’s long desired elixir, pour Upon this wasted heart of mine— Bring me a promise and a sign!

Between the ambush of mine eyes And my heart’s fort there’s enmity— Her eye-brow’s bow, the dart that flies, Beneath her lashes, bring to me! Sorrow and absence, glances cold, Before my time have made me old; A wine-cup from the hand of Youth Bring me for pity and for ruth!

Then shall all unbelievers taste A draught or two of that same wine; But if they like it not, oh haste! And let joy’s flowing cup be mine. Cup-bearer, seize to-day, nor wait Until to-morrow!—or from Fate Some passport to felicity, Some written surety bring to me!

My heart threw back the veil of woe, Consoled by Hafiz’ melody: From out the street of So-and-So, Oh wind, bring perfumes sweet to me!