Classic Poem

At dawn from the Unseen Speaker Came the glad news to mine ear;
“The time it of Shah Shejáa is! Drink, then, and make good cheer!”

Past, past are the days when the people Of vision withdrew apart,
Mouths full of a thousand sayings And silent the lips for fear.

To the sound of the harp we will utter Those words, for the hiding whereof
The breast, like a boiling cauldron, Was ever in ferment sheer.

The wine, that in secret drunken, For fear of the Censor, was,
We'll quaff to the topers' clamour, In face of the comrades dear.

Aback, from the street of the winehouse, They carried him yesterday,
His Worship th' Imám, the prayer-rug A-shoulder that bore whileare!

Good guidance, o heart, I give thee, To fare in salvation's way;
In lewdness, indeed, nor glory Nor vaunt thou thyself austere.

The mind of the king the focus Of manifestation is;
Make pure thine intent, whenever Thou drawest his presence near.

Be nought but the praise of his glory The exercise of thy heart;
For th'angels their revelations Make to his privy ear.

The secrets of state expedience Kings only know: thou'rt nought
But a beggarly dervish, Hafiz: Prate not, but watch and hear.