No man hath seen thy visage, Though many an one thy spy is
No man hath seen thy visage, Though many an one thy spy is:
For thee full many a bulbul, Though yet in bud, a-sigh is.
If I unto thy quarter Repair, 'tis no such wonder;
In this thy land full many A stranger, such as I, is.
Though I from thee am distant, (Be none from thee removéd!)
The hope of thine attainment Still to my thought anigh is.
In Love there is no diff'rence 'Twixt cloister-cell and tavern;
The light of the Friend's visage In all parts, low and high, is
Wherever they make goodly The practice of the convent,
The Cross's name of glory And the monk's gong thereby is.
Was ever lover's suff'rance Unnoted of the Loved One?
O sir, without physician No pain beneath the sky is.
Nay, all this lamentation Of Hafiz not for nought is;
Rare cause and parlous reason, God wot, for his outcry is.
For thee full many a bulbul, Though yet in bud, a-sigh is.
If I unto thy quarter Repair, 'tis no such wonder;
In this thy land full many A stranger, such as I, is.
Though I from thee am distant, (Be none from thee removéd!)
The hope of thine attainment Still to my thought anigh is.
In Love there is no diff'rence 'Twixt cloister-cell and tavern;
The light of the Friend's visage In all parts, low and high, is
Wherever they make goodly The practice of the convent,
The Cross's name of glory And the monk's gong thereby is.
Was ever lover's suff'rance Unnoted of the Loved One?
O sir, without physician No pain beneath the sky is.
Nay, all this lamentation Of Hafiz not for nought is;
Rare cause and parlous reason, God wot, for his outcry is.
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