Ode LXIX

My heart desires the face so fair--Of Farrukh;
It is perturbed as is the hair
Of Farrukh.

No creature but that lock, that Hindú swart,
Enjoyment from the cheek has sought
Of Farrukh.

A blackamoor by Fortune blest is he,
Placed at the side, and near the knee
Of Farrukh.

Shy as the aspen is the cypress seen,
Awed by the captivating mien
Of Farrukh.

Sákí, bring syrtis-tinted wine to tell
Of those narcissi, potent spell
Of Farrukh.

Bent as the archer's bow my frame is now,
From woes continuous as the brow
Of Farrukh.

E'en Tartar gales which musky odors whirl,
Faint at the amber-breathing curl
Of Farrukh.

If leans the human heart to any place,
Mine has a yearning to the grace
Of Farrukh.

That lofty soul
Shall have my service true,
That serves, as Háfiz,
The Hindú--
Of Farrukh.