eeting place?

Here jointly are the wine-filled cup, the rose, the minstrel; yet
While we lack love, no bliss is here: where can my Loved be met?

Of the Shaikh's cell my heart has tired, and of the convent bare:
Where is my friend, the Christian's child, the vintner's mansion, where?

Hafiz, if o'er the glade of earth
The autumn-blast is borne,
Grieve not, but musing ask thyself:
"Where has the rose no thorn?"

LIX

My Prince, so gracefully thou steppest, that where thy footsteps
fall--I'd die.
My Turk, so gracefully thou glidest, before thy stature tall
I'd die.

"When wilt thou die before me?"--saidst thou. Why thus so eagerly
inquire?
These words of thy desire delight me; forestalling thy desire
I'd die.

I am a lover, drunk, forsaken: Saki, that idol, where is he?
Come hither with thy stately bearing! let me thy fair form see,
I'd die.

Should he, apart from whom I've suffered a life-long illness, day by
day,
Bestow on me a glance, one only, beneath that orb dark-gray
I'd die.

"The ruby of my lips," thou saidst, "now bale, now balsam may exhale":
At one time from their healing balsam, at one time from their bale
I'd die.

How trim thy gait! May eye of evil upon thy face be never bent!
There dwells within my head this fancy; that at thy feet content
I'd die.

Though no place has been found for Hafiz
In Love's retreat, where hid thou art,
For me thine every part has beauty,
Before thine every part--
I'd die.

LXIII

My heart has of the world grown weary and all that it can lend:
The shrine of my affection holds no Being but my friend.

If e'er for me thy love's sweet garden a fragrant breath exhale,
My heart, expansive in its joy, shall bud-like burst its veil.

Should I upon love's path advise thee, when now a fool I've grown,
'Twould be the story of the fool, the pitcher, and the stone.

Go! say to the secluded zealot: "Withhold thy blame; for know,
I find the arch of the Mihrab[37] but in an eyebrow's bow."

Between the Ka'bah and the wine-house, no difference I see:
Whate'er the spot my glance surveys, there equally is He.

'Tis not for beard, hair, eyebrow only, Kalandarism should care:
The Kalandar computes the Path by adding hair to hair.[38]

The Kalandar who gives a hair's head,
An easy path doth tread:
The Kalandar