Ghazal 036 from Divan of Hafez

Since your lock of hair has fallen into the breeze,
My lovelorn heart has broken in two.

Your magical eye itself is the very essence of black magic,
But it is this fragile copy that has been ruined.

Do you know what that black mole is in the curve of your curl?
It is a speck of soot that has fallen in the loop of the letter Jim.

Your dark curl in the rose garden of your cheek
Is what? A peacock that has fallen into the Garden of Paradise.

My heart, in longing for your face, O companion of my soul,
Is dust on the path that has fallen into the breeze.

Like this earthly dust, this body cannot rise
From the head of your lane, because it has fallen so low.

The shadow of your stature on my form, O breath of life,
Is the reflection of a spirit that has fallen on my decaying bones.

He who remembered nothing but the Kaaba from your lips,
I saw him dwelling at the door of the tavern.

Hafez, the lost one, has a union with your grief, O dear beloved,
A union that was made in ancient times.