Classic Poem

" Wrong, " quoth I, " is this thou doist; Ill-advised the thing, to wit, is. "
" What is to be done? " she answered. " On this wise foreordered it is. "

" Many a trait of evil-doing Folk, " quoth I, " 'Gainst thee have written. "
" All from that is which, " she answered, " On the forehead's tablet writ is. "

Quoth I, " 'Twas the ill companion That unto this pass hath brought thee. "
" Nay, " quoth she, " My own ill fortune My companion every whit is. "

" Why, o moon, hast thou, " I asked her, " Thus thy love from me dissevered? "
And she answered, " Know that Heaven Wroth with me for love unfit is. "

" Many a cup of mirth and joyance, Heretofore, " quoth I, " thou'st drunken. "
" In the lattermost, " she answered, " Healing for the heart and wit is. "

" Thou who 'rt very life, " I questioned, " Why again art thou departing? "
" Nay, how should I do? " she answered. " Life like this fore'er aflit is. "

" For departing hence so quickly, Sure, " quoth I, " there's no occasion. "
But " Belike, " quoth she, " for going Cause and season apposite is. "

" Wherefore art thou thus from Hafiz Minded to remove? " I asked her.
" Evermore, " said she, " my purpose Thee and thine, indeed, to quit is. "