Ode XXV

Breeze of the morn, if hence to the land thou fliest--Of my friend,

Return with a musky breath from the lock so sweet

Of my friend.

Yea, by that life, I swear I would lay down mine in content,

If once I received through thee but a message sent

Of my friend.

But--at that sacred court, if approach be wholly denied,

Convey, for my eyes, the dust that the door supplied

Of my friend.

I--but a beggar mean--can I hope for Union at last?

Ah! would that in sleep I saw but the shadow cast

Of my friend.

Ever my pine-cone heart, as the aspen trembling and shy,

Has yearned for the pine-like shape and the stature high

Of my friend.

Not at the lowest price would my friend to purchase me care;

Yet I, a whole world to win, would not sell one hair

Of my friend.

How should this heart gain aught,

Were its gyves of grief flung aside?

I, Háfiz, a bondsman, still

Would the slave abide

Of my friend.