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Morning breeze, its fragrance will
exhale The old world will once again youthfully sail. Tulip will
bring a red cup to the meadows Narcissus' eyes from poppy will grow
pale. When would nightingale put up with such abuse In the
chamber of the rose cry and wail. I traded the temple for the
tavern, fault me not Prayer is long and stale, time is
frail. Leave not joy of the now till the morrow Who can vouch
that the morrow, the now shall trail? Month of Sha'aban put not
down the jug of wine Till the end of Ramadan you'll miss this Holy
Grail. Hold dear all the flowers and commune Came to be and will
whither with a breeze or a gale. This feast is for friends, O
minstrel, play and sing Sing again, it came thus and went thus, to
what avail? Hafiz, for your sake, entered this tale Walk with
him, say farewell, he'll tear the veil.
© Shahriar Shahriari Los
Angeles, Ca January 5, 2000


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This
page was last edited on Monday,
February 14,
2000
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