Ode CXLV

Breeze of the North, thy news allays my fears:

The hour of meeting with my Loved one nears.

Prospered by Heaven, O carrier pigeon, fly:

Hail to thee, hail to thee, come nigh, come nigh!

How fares our Salmâ? What Zú Salam's state?

Our neighbors there--are they unscathed by Fate?

The once gay banquet-hall is now devoid

Of circling goblets, and of friends who joyed.

Perished the mansion with its lot serene:

Interrogate the mounds where once 'twas seen.

The night of absence has now cast its shade:

What freaks by Fancy's night-gang will be played?

He who has loved relates an endless tale:

Here the most eloquent of tongues must fail.

My Turk's kind glances no one can obtain:

Alas, this pride, this coldness, this disdain!

In perfect beauty did thy wish draw nigh:

God guard thee from Kamál's malefic eye![44]

Háfiz, long will last

Patience, love, and pain?

Lovers wail is sweet:

Do thou still complain.