Classic Poem

O justice-doer, thy bosom-friend And cup-companion the Sphere still be!
Drowned, like the tulip, thy black-heart foe In blood, for sorrow and fear, still be!

The topmost turret of thy renown, For very muchness of altitude,
For thought to travel, the pilgrimage Of many and many a year still be!

Thine ebon tress, with its many a coil,'s The eye and lamp of the world may souls
Cast in the crook of its curling chain By zephyr of Fortune dear still be!

O moon of the heaven of equity, The eye and the lamp of the world thou art:
God grant that thy beaker brimmed with wine Of bliss unmingled and clear still be!

Since Venus in heaven above the song Of thy praises hath taken up, may those
Who envy and hate thee, hearing this, The housemates of sigh and tear still be!

The ninefold trays of the firmament And loaves of silver and gold, that shine
Aloft in the sky, thy lightest part Of majesty's table-gear still be!

The maid of my virgin fantasy Is consecrate to the praise of thee:
Committed unto thy bounty's hand The dow'r of this bride sans peer still be!

Thy Hafiz in this ghazél to thee Avouchment maketh of servitude:
And witness to this indenture mine Thy servant-cherishing cheer still be!