Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Bringer of wine, pass around the cup and be lavish!
for love that seemed easy at first turned out to be full of struggle.
Ah, the blood flooding into our hearts
when the breeze spread the fragrance of her braid…
At the master’s command, soak your prayer-mat with purple wine.
Every traveller knows the road and the customs of the journey.
At camp, in the caravan of the fair one, how can I rest?
Each moment the bell cries, ’Load the camels!’
Horrid darkness – dread - the sucking vortex -
what can light-weights strolling the shore ever know of our state?
In the end, my work brought me nothing but a bad reputation -
and yet, how its power endures, known to the faithful.
Hafiz, if you want the beloved near, draw near yourself,
let go of the world when you come to her, surrendering all.