Beloved departed and drove the lover insane.
O flowers, you played your magic tricks
Alas that the drunk the sober shall reign.
My tears were my friends, since Beloved stayed away
My unkind fate from helping would refrain.
At dawn Beloved's house's bright glow
The lover's wounded heart would strain and pain.
O bearer give me a cup, since the hidden hand that writes
Has plans, access to which nobody can gain.
The artist of firmaments, earth and spheres
Nobody knows what plans it would feign.
Burning love, Hafiz's heart would entertain
Beloved from old times this poor lover has slain.
© Shahriar Shahriari,Los Angeles, Ca,January 20, 2000