Classic Poem

A grievous folly shames my sixtieth year—
My white head is in love with a green maid;
I kept my heart a secret, but at last
I am betrayed.
Like a mere child I walked into the snare;
My foolish heart followed my foolish eyes;
And yet, when I was young—in ages past—
I was so wise.

If only she who can such wonders do
Could from my cheeks time's calumny erase,
And change the color of my snow-white locks—
Give a young face
To my young heart, and make my old eyes new,
Bidding my outside tell the inward truth!
O 't is a shallow wit wherewith time mocks
An old man's youth!

Ah! it was always so with us who sing!
Children of fancy, we are in the power
Of any dream, and at the bidding we
Of a mere flower;
Yet HAFIZ, though full many a foolish thing
Ensnared thy heart with wonder, never thou
Wert wont imagination's slave to be
As thou art now.