Ghazal 483

A traveler in a strange land
Took a stranger by the hand,

You will only see clarity of the wine
If for forty days you let it stand.

God keep us from the dervish’s cloak
That conceals an idol in every strand.

Though virtue needs no recognition
Let helping the needy be your errand.

O you, the owner of the harvest
Keep your harvesters from reprimand.

Where has all the joy gone?
Why is the pain of love so bland?

Every chest is gloomy, dark and sad;
Let love’s flame in hearts be fanned.

Without the finger of lovers
For golden rings there’s no demand.

Though Beloved seems to be so harsh
The lover accepts every command.

Walk to the tavern and I will ask,
Have you seen the end you have planned?

Neither Hafiz’s heart is in lessons so grand
Nor the teacher can fully understand.