Poem Number 490
In the land of the Magi, none ...
The ghazal
In the land of the Magi, none like me, can be lost
Pawned my gown in a place, in another, my books, I must.
My heart, mirror of the King, is all covered with dust,
I pray for a clear word, light up the path that I must.
I repent, no more wine, from the beautiful seller;
Drinking wine, without that face, is but lust.
Narcissus may mock your ways, you keep calm,
Insight, blind-in-the-heart, will not trust.
None but candle can speak of this tale,
Why, the moth, in this tale, only goes bust.
My tears run from my eyes, streaming down,
To grow beauty by my side, this is my cost.
Bring me a vessel of wine; without my friend,
My eyes, flood like the sea, with heart's disgust.
I praise my Beloved, speak to me of no other,
For wine and Beloved, I fear none I distrust.
Infidel played the reed beside the gates of the Tavern.
What a lovely song, played, in my heart, the morning gust.
If Godliness comes from what Hafiz has
Alas, if after today, morrow ain't lost.
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About this ghazal
About this ghazal: In the land of the Magi, none ...
The interpretation
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