o sweet breeze of dawn- where is the friend’s resting place?
where is the house of that murderous and vagrant moon?
the night is dark and the valley of freedom lies ahead-
but where the light of sinai, and the place of vision, where?
all who come to this world bear the mark of ruin-
don’t ask of the tavern, “and where are the sober?”
he who knows the signs belongs to the people of good news-
the signs are many, but where is the friend of such secrets?
every hair on my head has a thousand interests in you-
what do i have to do with the disinterested critic?
the intellect has gone mad- where are the chains of musk?
the heart has left our eye- where was the arching eyebrow?
wine, rose and song are all here, ready to go, but
pleasure without the friend won’t work- where is he?
hafez, don’t suffer from fall’s wind in the field of time-
think it through! when was there ever rose without thorn!
note: light of sinai, etc. = moses (and his predicament)