CLIX
Aloud I say it, and with heart of glee:
"Love's slave am I, and from both worlds am free."
Can I, the bird of sacred gardens, tell
Into this net of chance how first I fell?
My place the Highest Heaven, an angel born,
I came by Adam to this cloister lorn.
Sweet houris, Túbâ's shade, and Fountain's brink
Fade from my mind when of thy street I think.
Knows no astrologer my star of birth:
Lord, 'neath what plant bore me Mother Earth?
Since with ringed ear I've served Love's house of wine,
Grief's gratulations have each hour been mine.
My eyeball's man drains my heart's blood; 'tis just:
In man's own darling did I place my trust.
My Loved one's Alif-form[45] stamps all my thought:
Save that, what letter has my master taught?
Let Háfiz' tear-drops
By thy lock be dried,
For fear I perish
In their rushing tide.