Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;
Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is brittle;
Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:
A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.

Her lips to mine how often hath she joined,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me hath she coined,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and cold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee;
O, my love, my love is young!
Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.

VIII.

O Love! within those golden vales,
Those genial airs where thou wast born;
Where Nature, listening thy soft tales,
Leans on the rosy breast of Morn:

Where the sweet Smiles, the Graces dwell,
And tender sighs the heart remove,
In silent eloquence to tell
Thy tale, O soul-subduing Love!

Ah! wherefore should grim Rage be nigh,
And dark Distrust, with changeful face,

This is true Love, by that true Cupid got,
Which danceth galliards in your amorous eyes,
But to your frozen heart approacheth not;
Only your heart he dares not enterprize,
And yet through every other part he flies,
And everywhere he nimbly danceth now,
That in yourself, yourself perceive not how.

For your sweet beauty, daintily transfused
With due proportion throughout every part,
What is it but a dance where Love hath used
His finer cunning and more curious art;
Where all the elements themselves impart,

Thy poems Hafiz shame the rose leaves
Since they breathe the praise of the rosier cheeks of thy love
Hafiz

And had Hafiz
Ten tongues like the lily,
He would be silent
Like the rosebud,
While thro love his mouth is sealed.
Hafiz

Blame me not thou hoarse preacher
Did not the Creator know
Who set me on fire with this flame
Whom I ought to love?
Hafiz

Thousand dangers of ruin has the street of love
Believe not that death frees thee from all
Hafiz

His learning truly lifted Hafiz to Heaven
But his love of thee has brot him to the dust
Hafiz

The way of love is unlimited
The soul is there sacrificed
There is no other way.

Scare me not with reason
Bring wine. Since Reason as watchman
Has nothing here to do

When thou givest thy heart to love
Tis good time tis a good thing
Use no counsel first

Who smote me? Ask thine eye,
O sweet child, let this not lie
As guilt against my Destiny

As the new moon needs a sharp eye
So thou an intelligent one; not every one