Ghazal 62

Well done O messenger, bring a message from my friend
Willingly I’ll give my own life for the sake of my friend.
Like a nightingale in cage, being love-sick is my trend
A singing parrot in love with nuts and sweets of my friend.

My trap is her hair, her mole is the seed, and I
In search of those seeds have been trapped by my friend.
Will remain always drunk, until resurrection is nigh
Whoever, like me, drank from the cup poured by my friend.

I will speak no more of my elation, I trust
Focusing on me diverts me from my friend.
I’d use as eye-liner, if I could, the very dust
Upon which, once or twice walked my friend.

I long for union, while my friend away will turn,
I give up my desires to fulfill those of my friend.
In this your incurable fever, Hafiz, calmly burn
None can heal the pain of longing, my friend.


From Hafiz On Love

© Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
January  8, 2000


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