Classic Poem

For him who hath solitude chosen, Of pleasance and gain what need is?
For who hath the street of the Loved One, Of meadow and plain what need is?

O soul, by the need which thou feelest Of God the most High, I conjure thee,
Bethink thee a moment and question, For us, the love-slain, what need is.

Sore, sore is our need; but, for asking Of favours, no tongue can we muster:
Indeed, in the Bountiful's presence, For asking in vain what need is?

No need is of talk or pretention, If 'tis at our life that thou aimest;
Of plunder and pillage, when chattels Are thine and domain, what need is?

The luminous heart of the Friend is The world-showing cup of the legend;
What need, then, one's need of expounding? I say it again, what need is?

Time was when I wont to put up with The chiding and flouts of the sailors;
But now that the pearls have been gotten, For sailing the main what need is?

The life-giving lip of the Loved One Thy fated allowance foreknoweth;
For wearisome asking and craving, O beggarly swain, what need is?

We're burning, o monarch of beauty! At least, for God's sake, we implore thee
Thou ask, for the beggar, who pineth In passion and pain, what need is?

A vaunt and begone, o pretender! With thee I have nothing in common:
When loved ones are present, of foemen, Affection who feign, what need is?

Come, Hafiz; a truce to this piating! For worth of itself is apparent:
Indeed, of dispute and contention With rivals profane what need is?