Fade from my mind when of thy street I think.

Knows no astrologer my star of birth:
Lord, 'neath what plant bore me Mother Earth?

Since with ringed ear I've served Love's house of wine,
Grief's gratulations have each hour been mine.

My eyeball's man drains my heart's blood; 'tis just:
In man's own darling did I place my trust.

My Loved one's Alif-form[45] stamps all my thought:
Save that, what letter has my master taught?

Let Hafiz' tear-drops
By thy lock be dried,
For fear I perish
In their rushing tide.

CLXVI

Knowest thou what fortune is?
'Tis Beauty's sight obtaining;
'Tis asking in her lane for alms,
And royal pomp disdaining.

Sev'erance from the wish for life an easy task is ever;
But lose we friends who sweeten life, the tie is hard to sever.

Bud-like with a serried heart I'll to the orchard wander;
The garment of my good repute I'll tear to pieces yonder;

Now, as doth the West-wind, tell deep secrets to the Flower,
Hear now of Love's mysterious sport from bulbuls of the bower.

Kiss thy Beloved one's lips at first while the occasion lingers:
Await thou else disgust at last from biting lip and fingers.

Profit by companionship: this two-doored house forsaken,
No pathway that can thither lead in future time is taken.

Hafiz from the thought, it seems,
Of Shah Mansur has fleeted;
O Lord! remind him that the poor
With favor should be treated.

CLXXIII

With my heart's blood I wrote to one most dear:
"The earth seems doom-struck if thou are not near.

"My eyes a hundred signs of absence show:
These tears are not their only signs of woe."

I gained no boon from her for labor spent:
"Who tries the tried will in the end repent."

I asked how fared she; the physician spake:
"Afar from her is health; but near her ache."

The East-wind from my Moon removed her veil:
At morn shone forth the Sun from vapors pale.

I said: "They'll mock, if I go round thy lane."
By God! no love escapes the mocker's bane.

Grant Hafiz' prayer:
"One cup, by life so sweet!"
He seeks a goblet
With thy grace replete!

CLXXX

O thou who art unlearned still, the quest of love essay:
Canst thou who hast not trod the path guide others on the way?

While in the school of Truth thou stay'st, from Master Love to learn,
Endeavor, though a son to-day, the