Ode I

"Alá yá ayyuha's-Sákí!"--pass round and offer thou the bowl,

For love, which seemed at first so easy, has now brought trouble to my

soul.

With yearning for the pod's aroma, which by the East that lock shall

spread

From that crisp curl of musky odor, how plenteously our hearts have

bled!

Stain with the tinge of wine thy prayer-mat, if thus the aged Magian

bid,

For from the traveller from the Pathway[1] no stage nor usage can be

hid.

Shall my beloved one's house delight me, when issues ever and anon

From the relentless bell the mandate: "'Tis time to bind thy litters

on"?

The waves are wild, the whirlpool dreadful, the shadow of the night

steals o'er,

How can my fate excite compassion in the light-burdened of the shore?

Each action of my froward spirit has won me an opprobrious name;

Can any one conceal the secret which the assembled crowds proclaim?

If Joy be thy desire, O Háfiz,

From Him far distant never dwell.

"As soon as thou hast found thy Loved one,

Bid to the world a last farewell."