Ode 378

LOVE, I am like the candle

That burns all night for your sake;

In the morn of your smile

I flicker and fade—

Yea! go right out for your sake.

So deep and so sweet is the yearning

Of that lonely candle burning,

That when I am dead

A violet bed

Of my longing heart shall be made.

O my true heart shall break

In blossom for your sake!

I lifted my eyes to your threshold,

In hope of a look or a word;

But you thrust me away from your threshold,

Unlooked on and unheard.

O faithful hosts of sorrow,

I bid you all good morrow,

For only you

To me are true;

Lonely, without a friend,

On you can I depend;

From you can always borrow,

My faithful sorrow.

Slave of the iris of my eye,

Black devil though he be,

Slave of his friendliness am I,

His ready sympathy;

For every beauty that I see

He sees it too,

And every tear that I may shed

For love of you—

He sheds it too.

My idol's beauty is displayed

In every place;

The whole wide world can look upon

Her lovely face;

My idol greedily accepts

All kinds of praise;

Yet, though by all she be desired

With foolish eye,

Only by me

With proper praise is she admired;

I only see

What thousands look upon

And never see—

I, only I.

HAFIZ, when deep down in the grave you lie,

Merely the zephyr of her passing by

Your little stiff and solitary room

Will set your mouldering heart beating so loud,

That you will tear a way out of your shroud,

And leap alive and laughing from the tomb!