Ghazal 058 from Divan of Hafez

Our devotion and the threshold of the Beloved
Whatever befalls us is a result of our devotion to Him.

I've seen none like the Beloved, though I've compared Him to moon and sun.
I've placed mirrors before the Beloved's face.

What can the gentle breeze say of my narrow heart?
It's as twisted as the petals of a rosebud yearning for you.

I am not a mere jug in this tavern of the wise,
Many a palace in this world is just a pile of stones and jugs.

Did you perhaps comb your amber-scented tresses?
For the wind has become like musk and the dust like amber.

Every flower petal in the meadow is an offering to your face,
Every cypress by the river is sacrificed to your stature.

The eloquent tongue is too weak to describe this yearning,
What hope is there for a broken, useless pen?

Your face has entered my heart, I shall find my desire,
For a good omen follows a good sight.

Hafez's heart is not now inflamed with lust,
But is marked from eternity, like a wild tulip.