Classic Poem

From the garden of thy beauty If a fruit cull I, what is it?
By thy lamp if I to lighten What's before me try, what is it?

If, O Lord, I sit a moment, All consumed with passion's fire,
In the shelter of the shadow Of that cypress high, what is it?

O Jem's seal-ring of good auspice, Blest of working, if for once
Thy reflection on the ruby Of my signet lie, what is it?

Forth the house my reason gone is; And if thus the wine abide,
To my faith what will, I wonder, Happen by and by? What is it?

Though the love of kings and judges 'Tis the city zealots seek,
For a fair one's love and favour If I choose to sigh, what is it?

In pursuit of wine and wanton, Have I spent my precious life:
What from this and that betide me Will, I wonder? Ay, what is it?

That I am a lover knoweth E'en the Vizier and saith nought;
And forsooth, if Hafiz also Know that such am I, what is it?