Ghazal 023 from Divan of Hafez

Your image is a constant companion on every path,
The breeze of your hair is the bond of our conscious souls.

Despite the naysayers who forbid love,
The beauty of your face is our compelling argument.

See how the dimple on your cheek speaks,
A thousand Josephs of Egypt have fallen into our well.

If my hand cannot reach your long tresses,
It is the fault of my ill-fated destiny and my short hand.

Tell the gatekeeper of the private chamber,
Such and such is one of the recluses of your threshold.

Though your face is hidden from our sight,
You are always present in our comfortable mind.

If Hafez knocks on your door once a year, open it,
For years he has been longing for your moon-like face.