Classic Poem

Sweet is seclusion, if the Friend In company with me be,
But not if, whilst I burn, the light Of others' banquets she be.

That signet-ring of Solomon At nought I set, if on it
The hand of Ahriman to seize At any season free be.

Permit it not, o Lord, that in The sanctuary of union
The spy a confidant and I A castaway from Thee be.

Say to the Huma, " Never cast Thy pinions' shade of honour
" Upon that land where greater kites Than parrots in degree be " .

There ne'er departeth from our head The longing for thy quarter;
Still with their native land the hearts Of exiles oversea be.

What need love's longing to expound, Since in the speech's ardour
The fires, that at the lover's heart Are burning, plain to see be?

Though, as the lily's fashion is, Ten-tongued, indeed, were Hafiz,
Still in thy presence, rose-bud like, Seal upon mouth, would he be.