“Oh! Red Rose,” said the Nightingale, “thee I’ll throne in love apart!”

“Oh! Red Rose,” said the Nightingale, “thee I’ll throne in love apart!”
Black envy’s storm broke over him--lo!--a thorn within his heart!

“Mine,” merrily the parrot said, “shall sweetest sugar be.”
Misfortune fell upon him and his wish was vanity.

I said: “My Son, Heart’s Dearest, thou art balsam to my eyes!”
He is gone. Within the world not a pleasure for me lies.

Drivers, halt the tinkling camels! Let pause the caravan,
For my pack has fallen. Find it! Oh! find it if ye can!

Scorn not my dust disfigured face stained o’er and o’er with tears!
Of just such mortar always man his regal dwelling rears.

Alas! that Heaven’s moon should stoop to envy one like me,
To steal my moon-faced love away to light eternity.

Ah! Hafiz, hadst thou not delayed, grand-children now were thine!
Thy wild blood made the passing day always too subtly shine.