if the dust from my beloved’s feet were to assist me,
it would write the letters of suffering before my eyes.
if his command were to reach me in search of truth,
at once, like the candle, in a breath, i would expire.
although the friend does not transmute the heart,
i swear i count out good coin in his path.
don’t brush my dust off your coat- even
the wind won’t carry my anguish out the door.
i am drowned by desire of your side yet hope
the wave of my tears will carry me to your arms.
today, don’t turn from my promise but think
of that night in sorrow when i held my hands high in praise.
your long black hair is the comfort of lovers-
it gives such security, but it takes away all my peace!
o wind, bring me a scent from that cup of wine!
that scent holds the cure for my aching head.
hafez, his red lips are for me dear life itself-
may they be mine that moment when i expire!
