To men of God be friendly: in Noah's ark was earth[13]
Which deemed not all the deluge one drop of water worth.
As earth, two handfuls yielding, shall thy last couch supply,
What need to build thy palace, aspiring to the sky?
Flee from the house of Heaven, and ask not for her bread:
Her goblet black shall shortly her every guest strike dead.[14]
To thee, my Moon of Kanaan, the Egyptian throne pertains;
At length has come the moment that thou shouldst quit thy chains.
I know not what dark projects those pointed locks design,
That once again in tangles their musky curls combine.
Be gay, drink wine, and revel;
But not, like others, care,
O Háfiz, from the Koran
To weave a wily snare!
XII
Oh! where are deeds of virtue and this frail spirit where?
How wide the space that sunders the bounds of Here and There!
Can toping aught in common with works and worship own?
Where is regard for sermons, where is the rebeck's Tone?[15]
My heart abhors the cloister, and the false cowl its sign:
Where is the Magian's cloister, and where is his pure wine?