Ghazal 62

Well done O messenger, bring a message from my friend Willingly I'll give my own life for the sake of my friend. Like a nightingale in cage, being love-sick is my trend A singing parrot in love with nuts and sweets of my friend. My trap is her hair, her mole is the seed, and I In search of those seeds have been trapped by my friend. Will remain always drunk, until resurrection is nigh Whoever, like me, drank from the cup poured by my friend. I will speak no more of my elation, I trust Focusing on me diverts me from my friend. I'd use as eye-liner, if I could, the very dust Upon which, once or twice walked my friend. I long for union, while my friend away will turn, I give up my desires to fulfill those of my friend. In this your incurable fever, Hafiz, calmly burn None can heal the pain of longing, my friend.