Pining for thy sight my spirit trembling on my lip doth wait:
Forth to speed it, back to lead it, speak the sentence of its fate.
Pass me with thy skirt uplifted from the dusty bloody ground:
Many who have been thy victims dead upon this path are found.
How this heart is anguish-wasted let my heart's possessor know:
Friends, your souls and mine contemplate, equal by their common woe.
Aught of good accrues to no one witched by thy Narcissus eye:
Ne'er let braggarts vaunt their virtue, if thy drunken orbs are nigh.
Soon my Fortune sunk in slumber shall her limbs with vigor brace:
Dashed upon her eye is water, sprinkled by thy shining face.
Gather from thy cheek a posy, speed it by the flying East;
Sent be perfume to refresh me from thy garden's dust at least.
Háfiz offers a petition, listen, and "Amen" reply:
"On thy sugar-dropping rubies let me for life's food rely."
Many a year live on and prosper, Sákís of the court of Jem,[3]
E'en though I, to fill my wine-cup, never to your circle come.
East wind, when to Yazd thou wingest, say thou to its sons from me:
"May the head of every ingrate ball-like 'neath your mall-bat be!"
"What though from your dais distant, near it by my wish I seem;
Homage to your Ring I render, and I make your praise my theme."