Poems from the Divan of Hafiz

by active 14th century Hafiz

When the voice of thy love shall call me to be thy slave,

I shall rise to a greater far than the mastery

Of life and the living, time and the mortal span:

Pour down, oh Lord! from the clouds of thy guiding grace,

The rain of a mercy that quickeneth on my grave,

Before, like dust that the wind bears from place to place,

I arise and flee beyond the knowledge of man.

When to my grave thou turnest thy blessed feet,

Wine and the lute thou shalt bring in thine hand to me,

Thy voice shall ring through the folds of my winding-sheet,