If that blessed bird of heaven Through my door come back again,
Youth will certes, in eld's season, As of yore, come back again.
Fortune's lightnings, which departed From my vision, will, I hope,
Guided by my tears, that rainlike Stream and pour, come back again.
She, whose foot-dust was the crownal Of my head, a king were I,
If unto my brows that head-gear, Once they wore, come back again.
What avail me my soul's jewels, In the Loved One's way if I
Strew them not, what time her foot-steps To our shore come back again?
In her traces will I follow; Yea, and tidings of me, friends,
Shall ye hear, if I in person Nevermore come back again.
'Tis the sweet morn-sleep and harp-clang Hinder her; for, otherwise,
When she heard my dawntide sighing, She would sure come back again.
From the roof the drum of fortune Newly gotten will I beat,
If my late-lost moon, a-travel Gone before, come back again.
For her cheek I long, that royal Moon: o Hafiz, still in prayer
Fervent be, so she in safety Through thy door come back again.
Youth will certes, in eld's season, As of yore, come back again.
Fortune's lightnings, which departed From my vision, will, I hope,
Guided by my tears, that rainlike Stream and pour, come back again.
She, whose foot-dust was the crownal Of my head, a king were I,
If unto my brows that head-gear, Once they wore, come back again.
What avail me my soul's jewels, In the Loved One's way if I
Strew them not, what time her foot-steps To our shore come back again?
In her traces will I follow; Yea, and tidings of me, friends,
Shall ye hear, if I in person Nevermore come back again.
'Tis the sweet morn-sleep and harp-clang Hinder her; for, otherwise,
When she heard my dawntide sighing, She would sure come back again.
From the roof the drum of fortune Newly gotten will I beat,
If my late-lost moon, a-travel Gone before, come back again.
For her cheek I long, that royal Moon: o Hafiz, still in prayer
Fervent be, so she in safety Through thy door come back again.