Classic Poem

When the Maker the fashion and form Of thy heart-easing eyebrows pourtrayed,
The solving of this mine affair By thy glances, He willed, should be swayed.

Repose from my heart and the heart Of the bird of the morning He took,
When this one and that one lament For thee in the dawntides He bade.

When Fortune the broidery wrought Of thy robe of narcissus-like hue,
Myself in the road-dust it set, With the cypress of meadow and glade.

An hundredfold knots from my case And the heart of the rosebud it loosed,
When the breeze of the dawning its heart To the love and pursuit of thee laid.

The sphere's revolution content Hath made me thy bondman to be;
What profit, since in thine approof It stablished the end of the braid?

Knots, prithee, on this my poor heart Bind not, as a muskpod it were;
For a pact of alliance my heart With thy knot-loosing ringlets hath made.
Mayhap, like the rosebud, whoe'er His heart to the love of thee sets
Shall find all his troubles one day By the breeze of thy fragrance allayed.

O zephyr of union, the life Of another thou wast See the fault
That I made, when my heart set its hopes On the faith of a fair fickle maid!

Quoth I, " From the town, on account Of thy cruelty, will I depart. "
She laughed and " Go, Hafiz! Thy feet Who is it that bindeth? " she said.