He, in whom desire of traffic With thy down, my sweet, shall be

He, in whom desire of traffic With thy down, my sweet, shall be,
Whilst he liveth, in this circle Ever fast his feet shall be.

From the grave-mould, tulip-fashion, When I rise, Love's scars, for thee
Worn, the secret of my bosom's Innermost retreat shall be.

Where art thou, o pearl unvalued, For whose image this mine eye
Is and ever like an ocean, Where all waters meet, shall be?

Be the shadow of thy tresses Ever lengthened o'er my head,
So thereby my heart distracted Eased of passion's heat shall be!

From my every eyelash water Ever running is: then come,
When in thee desire for pleasance And the streamside seat shall be.

Like my heart, come forth a moment From the veil and enter in;
'Tis not certain when another Time for us as meet shall be.

Out of pride, thine eye from Hafiz Thou avertest; verily,
Still the blue narcissus' fashion Heavy-head conceit shall be.
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Author of original: 
Khwaja Shams-ad-din Muhammad Hafiz
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