My eyes drown in tears, yet thirst for but one chance
I’ll give away my whole life, for Beloved, but one glance.
Be ashamed of Beloved’s beautiful eyes and long lashes
If you have seen what I have, and still deny me my trance.
O traveler, leave these city gates behind and go back
Tread the same path, and towards my Beloved you’ll advance.
With such shortage of love, I submit to my fate
That drunken gypsy’s love is now my circumstance.
The aromatic flowers, the perfume of that hair
Is only a sample from my Perfumer’s fragrance.
O gardener, like the breeze, do not drive me away,
You water your flowers with my tears’ assistance.
Ordered me to drink much from my lover’s sweet lips
And healed my sickened heart by taking such joyous stance.
The one who taught Hafiz, how his ghazals enhance,
Is none but my silent friend, with a sweet parlance.
From Hafiz on Love
© Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
October 20, 1999