Poems from the Divan of Hafiz

by active 14th century Hafiz

My broken heart is wounded everywhere

With countless wounds from which the red drops start.

Yet when sad lovers meet and tell their sighs,

Not without praise shall Hafiz’ name be said,

Not without tears, in those pale companies

Where joy has been forgot and hope has fled.

XXXIX

Cypress and Tulip and sweet Eglantine,

Of these the tale from lip to lip is sent;

Washed by three cups, oh Saki, of thy wine,