Ghazal 428

Early morning, drunk from the night before
Wine in hand, asked the harpist to play more.

For my mind's journey, sent forth supplies of wine
From Existence City, sent him to explore.

Beautiful wine-seller gave me a sip of wine
I was safe from trickster Fate's horror and gore.

The wine-bearer to me said, with arched brows,
O target, arrows of reproach on you pour

You won't gird your waist with such binding belt
If you see that it is yourself who becomes sore.

Go and lay this trap of yours for another bird
Phoenix, at great heights will fly and soar.

Yet bind, belt, and trap are from Kingly grace
To adore itself and show endless amour.

Friend and player and bearer are all He
Water and clay to this path are but the door.

Give wine and let our ship happily sail
Upon this endless ocean without a shore.

Hafiz, our existence is a metaphor
This dreamy tale we tour and implore.