Ask not what sorrows for love I endure
Ask not of parting poisons that make me impure.
I have traveled the world and in the end
Ask not what lover I willingly allure.
Longing for a vision, at her door
Ask not of the tears that I pour.
With my own ears I heard her last night
Ask not of her words, harsh yet demure.
Bite not your upper lip and speak not
Ask not what sweet lips I may secure.
In my mendicant state without you
Ask not of my pain and need for a cure.
On the path of Love, Hafiz, lost & unsure
Ask not of his standing, high and pure.
© Shahriar Shahriari,Los Angeles, Ca,January 23, 2000