Ode 131

IN the Beloved's path I laid my face,
Yea! in the very dust of the highway
Bowed I my head—hoping a little grace;
But she passed on her light indifferent way,
Nor even deigned to notice where I lay.
God pardon her—she hath a lovely face.

God guard the careless creature from the sigh
That broke unwilling from a bosom torn
With grief of her intolerable scorn.
I had no other purpose but to die,
Like an expended taper that at morn
Is blown out by a zephyr's passing by.

O very hard the heart of my beloved—
Hard as a rock on which the bitter rain
Beats, yet remains unmelted and unmoved;
O torrents of my tears! 't was all in vain.
Ah! all in vain the tears of the unloved,
And all unheeded all his lonely pain.

Last night so very bitterly I wept,
All living things slept not for sympathy;
The very birds and fishes vigil kept;
Awake was the wide world—save only she:
Ah! she alone it was that soundly slept—
Though all the world was sitting up with me.

To the sad rain-song, HAFIZ, of your tears
Shut the Beloved's heart, and shut her ears;
But, HAFIZ, sing your happy songs instead,
And she would rise, to listen, from the dead;
Songs as wild honey sweet, that whoso hears
Sings each word over and over in his heart,
Lest he should lose of it the smallest part.