Day 905


Where is the news of Union with you that I shall give up life.
I am a holy bird of Paradise, from the world’s trap shall rise.

By your love, I swear that if you call me to be your slave,
I shall give up the mastery of life and the world.

Oh Lord, let the rain fall from your guiding clouds,
Before, like dust, I rise and vanish from sight.

When you come to my grave, bring wine and the lute to me,
So that I, delighted to see you, from the grave dancing shall rise.

Though I am old, hold me tightly one night to your breast,
Then, in the morning, from your bosom, young shall I rise.

On the day of my death, give me a minute’s time to see you,
Then, from the world and life, I will be set free.

  • By the Persian poet, Khwāja Shams-ud-Dīn Muḥammad Ḥāfeẓ-e Shīrāzī

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