Classic Poem

Since in this age, companion Nor comrade, that fault-free is,
Except th' unmingled winecup And book of songs, to see is,

Fare thou alone, for narrow's The pathway of salvation;
Drink wine, for no returning Of precious life for thee is.

Not I in this world only For lack of works am troubled;
For knowledge without practice, Heart-sick the devotee is.

In this highroad of trouble, Unto the eye of reason,
The world, with all its business, Unstable vanity is.

My heart much hoped for union With thee; but in Life's pathway
The Term the highway-robber Of hope from all that be is.

The face of those predestined To fortune black, for scouring
Nor scrubbing, waxeth whitened: A proverb this, perdie, is

Toy with a moon-cheek's ringlets Nor cite the old wives' fable
That weal and bale from Saturn's Or Venus's decree is.

Each edifice thou seist Is subject to mutation,
Save that of Love, which only From alteration free is.

Never, whatever happen, They'll find our Hafiz sober,
For with wine Fore-eternal Intoxicated he is.