|When I play my lute,|
The invisible ones call a conference,
And the angels travel far knowing
A rare entertainment will soon take place.
When I play my drum, my notes become so real
The winged ones throw saddles upon them;
An outrageous holy rodeo begins.
No one has ever sat with Hafiz
And not left for the better.
No one can read my poems out loud
In a tender, loving voice
And not narrow the difference,
Not narrow the gap,
Between you and God.
I have many younger brothers and sisters
Scattered upon this earth.
There are always friends of God in this world.
Find one and offer service.
For their glance is generous and cannot help
but forever give.
When Hafiz plays his lute,
My notes ascend into the air and form
Infinite blue crystals
That will move on the wind's breath for hundreds of years
As my sacred debris, as the divine dust
Rising as a gift from my
(Narrow the Difference)
The Subject Tonight Is Love
60 Wild and Sweet Poems of Hafiz,
Translated by Daniel Ladinsky