Poems from the Divan of Hafiz 3

Wind from the east, oh Lapwing of the day, I send thee to my Lady, though the way Is far to Saba, where I bid thee fly; Lest in the dust thy tameless wings should lie, Broken with grief, I send thee to thy nest, Fidelity.

Or far or near there is no halting-place Upon Love’s road—absent, I see thy face, And in thine ear my wind-blown greetings sound, North winds and east waft them where they are bound, Each morn and eve convoys of greeting fair I send to thee.

Unto mine eyes a stranger, thou that art A comrade ever-present to my heart, What whispered prayers and what full meed of praise I send to thee.

Lest Sorrow’s army waste thy heart’s domain, I send my life to bring thee peace again, Dear life thy ransom! From thy singers learn How one that longs for thee may weep and burn; Sonnets and broken words, sweet notes and songs I send to thee.

Give me the cup! a voice rings in mine ears Crying: “Bear patiently the bitter years! For all thine ills, I send thee heavenly grace. God the Creator mirrored in thy face Thine eyes shall see, God’s image in the glass I send to thee.

“Hafiz, thy praise alone my comrades sing; Hasten to us, thou that art sorrowing! A robe of honour and a harnessed steed I send to thee.”