I said, “I suffer because of you.” She said, “Your suffering will end.”

I said, “Become my moon.” She said, “If it comes to pass.”

I said, “From lovers learn the custom of loyalty.”

She said, “Among the moon-faced ones this is rarely found.”

I said, “I will barricade your image from the road of my sight.”

She said, “It is a thief, and will come a different way.”

I said, “The scent of your hair has led me astray in the world.”

She said, “If you understand, it can also be your guide.”

I said, “Happy is the wind that rises from the garden of beauty.”

She said, “Fresh is the breeze that comes from my alleyway.”

I said, “Thirst for your ruby libs killed us with hope.”

She said, “Serve it, for it comes to nourish its servants.”

I said, “When does your merciful heart intend a truce?”

She said, “Speak of this to no one until that time comes.”

I said, “Did you see how these joyful times ended?”

She said, “Be quiet, Hafiz. This grief will also end.”

From: The Green Sea of Heaven: Fifty ghazals from the Diwan of Hafiz. Translated by Elizabeth T. Gray, Jr. Ashland, Oregon: White Cloud Press, 2002. p. 111

Original: