"Sákí, from Being's prison deliverance did I gain,
When now and now the cup thou lit'st with cheerful ray.
"God guard thee here below from all the haps of woe;
God in the Seat of Bliss reward thee on His day!"
When Háfiz rapt has grown,
How, at one barleycorn,
Should he appraise the realm,
E'en of Káús the Kay?[17]
XVI
I said: "O Monarch of the lovely, a stranger seeks thy grace this day."
I heard: "The heart's deceitful guidance inclines the stranger from
his way."
Exclaimed I then: "One moment tarry!" "Nay," was the answer, "let me go;
How can the home-bred child be troubled by stories of a stranger's
woe?"
Shall one who, gently nurtured, slumbers with royal ermine for a bed,
"Care if on rocks or thorns reposing the stranger rests his weary head?"
O thou whose locks hold fast on fetters so many a soul known long ago,
How strange that musky mole and charming upon thy cheek of vermil glow!
Strange is that ant-like down's appearance circling the oval of thy
face;
Yet musky shade is not a stranger within the Hall which paintings
grace.[18]
A crimson tint, from wine reflected gleams in that face of moonlight
sheen;
E'en as the bloom of syrtis, strangely, o'er clusters of the pale
Nasrín.[19]