Classic Poem

Lord of the world-all, Help of Religion, accomplished King,
Yéhya Muzéfferi, sovereign justice-administ'ring!

On the world's face the soul's window thou op'st and the door of the heart,
Thou whose protection sheltereth Islam under its wing.

Reason and judgment still it behoveth magnify thee;
For that thy bounty embraceth every created thing.

On the moon's face, on the Day of Creation, out of Thy pen
Fell a black drop, to all questions solution destined to bring.

When the sun saw that black mole, he complaining made in his heart,
“Would that I were but yon fortunate blackmoor!” still murmuring.

King, for the noise of thy banquets, the heavens carol and dance;
Still may thy halls with the burden of joyance echo and ring!

Drink and carouse and th' universe lavish at will; for thy foes
All are grown ta'en by the neck with thy lasso, slain of thy sling.

Heav'n's revolution converted to justice through thee's become;
Live blithe, for the wicked ones miss of their purpose, whilst thou art king.

Since the provision-allotter's the door of the king of the world,
Idle concern for thy life to the breezes, Hafiz, come fling!