Classic Poem

From thine enjoyment Paradise Doth lustre take and e'en
Hell from the sharpness of thy loss Doth heat and torment glean.

Unto the beauty of thy cheek And thy shape's elegance
Heav'n doth for greater grace resort And Touba's Tree of Treen.

Yea, of the streams of Paradise, As of mine eye, all night
Thy languorous narcissus eye In visions still is seen.

Spring, in each chapter of its book, Thy beauty doth comment;
Thy glorious name on every gate Is writ of heav'n's demesne.

Burnt is my heart nor hath my soul Achieved my heart's desire;
Else would it not with tears of blood Mine eyes incarnadine.

O'er wounded hearts and burning breasts, Alack, how many rights
Unto thy lip and mouth pertain Of salt and suff'rance keen!

Deem not that lovers only are Made drunken by thy cup:
Hast thou not heard of pietists O'ercome with love's chagrin?

The vision of thy lip and face Hath made it clear to me
How from the world-enlight'ning sun The ruby hath its sheen.

Draw back the face-veil: why affect Thus to seclude thyself?
Except seclusion, what hast thou Of vantage from this screen?

The rose thy face saw and became A-fire for jealousy;
Thy scent it smelt and rosewater Became for shame and spleen.

Hafiz, for love of thee, is like To drown in passion's sea:
Behold, alack! he perisheth! Ah, save him thou, my queen!

Hafiz, why lettest thou the days Thus without profit go?
Bestir and suffer not dear life To pass in waste and teen.