When the evening call to prayer rings

When the evening call to prayer rings
From strange mosques I do not know,
I sob out fond foolish sayings,
Homesick, babble of my woe.

Then the memory, Love, of thy face
Such a flood of grief sets free,
I could swim across the world space,
On my tears become a sea!

Since in this strange land though friendly
Not an exile I remain,
Send me back again, Almighty,
Back to dear Shiraz again!

Lo! dust-humbled thus I’m praying:
“Let me see again, Just God,
On my home the green vines swaying,
And the dear familiar sod!”

How can I to thinkers count, pray,
As a grey beard old and wise,
Since I still with love and youth play
For the same sweet foolish prize?

Here but north and east wind know me,
Unknown otherwise am I,
None say “Greetings!” since none know me
Save that wanton wind a-fly.