Poems from the Divan of Hafiz
Last night I dreamed that angels stood without The tavern door, and knocked in vain, and wept; They took the clay of Adam, and, methought, Moulded a cup therewith while all men slept. Oh dwellers in the halls of Chastity! You brought Love’s passionate red wine to me, Down to the dust I am, your bright feet stept.
For Heaven’s self was all too weak to bear The burden of His love God laid on it, He turned to seek a messenger elsewhere, And in the Book of Fate my name was writ. Between my Lord and me such concord lies As makes the Huris glad in Paradise, With songs of praise through the green glades they flit.
A hundred dreams of Fancy’s garnered store Assail me—Father Adam went astray Tempted by one poor grain of corn! Wherefore Absolve and pardon him that turns away Though the soft breath of Truth reaches his ears, For two-and-seventy jangling creeds he hears, And loud-voiced Fable calls him ceaselessly.
That, that is not the flame of Love’s true fire Which makes the torchlight shadows dance in rings, But where the radiance draws the moth’s desire And sends him forth with scorched and drooping wings. The heart of one who dwells retired shall break, Rememb’ring a black mole and a red cheek, And his life ebb, sapped at its secret springs.
Yet since the earliest time that man has sought To comb the locks of Speech, his goodly bride, Not one, like Hafiz, from the face of Thought Has torn the veil of Ignorance aside.