The series of Ghaselen signed Freimund and dated 1822 (third series in our edition) are not characteristically Persian. Hence we proceed at once to a consideration of the fourth series (p. 253 seq.), which we shall discuss together with the poems collected under the title of Östliche Rosen (p. 289 seq.) from which they differ in nothing but the form. They were, besides, a part of the Östliche Rosen as published originally at Leipzig, 1822.
These poems are free reproductions or variations of Hafizian themes and motives. The spirit of revelry and intoxication finds here a much wilder and more bacchanalian expression than in the Divan of Goethe or the Ghaselen of Platen. Carpe diem is the sum and substance of the philosophy of such poems as "Einladung" (p. 287) and "Lebensgnüge" (p. 293); their note is in thorough accord with Hāfiḍ, when he exclaims (H. 525. 7):
سخن غير مگو با من معشوقه پرست
کز وی و جام ميم نيست بکس پروايی
"to me, who worship the beloved, do not mention anything else; for except for her and my cup of wine, I care for none." We are admonished to leave alone idle talk on how and why ("Im Frühlingsthau," p. 261), for as Hāfiḍ says (H. 487. 11): "Our existence is an enigma, whereof the investigation is fraud and fable." The tavern is celebrated with as much enthusiasm (e.g. "Das Weinhaus," p. 290) as the خرابات to which Hāfiḍ was destined by God (H. 492. 1). Monks and preachers are scored mercilessly (e.g. "Der Bussprediger," p. 255; "Dem Prediger," p. 295) as in H. 430. 7:
ناصح بطنزگفت حرامست می مخور
گفتم بچشم گوش بهر خر نمی کنم
"The admonisher spoke tauntingly: Wine is forbidden, do not drink! I said: On my eye (be it); I do not lend my ear to every ass."
The characteristic Persian images and rhetorical figures, familiar to us from Platen, are also found here in still greater variety and number. Thus to mention some new ones, the soul is likened to a bird (p. 270, No. 29, cf. H. 427. 5: مرغ روحم); the cypress is invoked to come to the brook (p. 336, cf. H. 108. 3: که سرو سهی را مقام بر لب جوست "the place of the straight cypress is on the bank of the brook"); the rose-bush glows with the fire of Moses ("Gnosis," p. 350, cf. H. 517. 2: آتش موسی نمود گل "the rose displays the fire of Mūsā"); Hafis is an idol-worshipper (p. 305, "Liebesandacht," cf. H. 439. 6, where بت شيرين حرکات "the idol of sweet motions" is addressed). We meet also the striking Oriental conception of the dust of the dead being converted into cups and pitchers. In "Von irdischer Herrlichkeit" (p. 257) the character "der alte Wirth" is the pīr of H. 4. 10 et passim, and when speaking of the fate of Jamšīd, Sulaīmān and Kāʻus Kaī, he says:
Von des Glückrads höchstem Gipfel warf der Tod in Staub sie,
Und ein Töpfer nahm den Staub in Dienst des Töpferrades.
Diesen Becher formt' er draus, und glüht' ihn aus im Feuer.
Nimm! aus edlen Schädeln trink und deiner Lust nicht schad' es!
This very striking thought, as is well known, is extremely common in Persian poetry. To cite from Hāfiḍ (H. 459. 4):