I Am an Iranian Daughter

Iran`s Historical Monuments,Iranian`s ceremonies,and some times my Thoughts, Diary...

Saturday, June 02, 2007

A poem for you

My bosom grac`d with each gay flow`r.
I grasp the bowl, my nymph in glee;
The monarch of the world this hour,
Is but a slave compare`d to me.

Intrude not with the taper`s light,
My social friends, with beaming eyes;
Trundle around a starry night,
And lo! my nymph the moon supplies.

Away, thy sprinkling odours spare,
Be not officiously thus kind;
The waving ringlets of my Fair,
Shed perfume to the fainting wind.

My ears th` enlivening notes inspire,
As lute or harp alternate sound;
My eyes those ruby lips admire,
Or each the glasses sparkling round.

Then let no moments steal away,
Without thy mistress and thy wine;
The spring flowers blossom to decay,
And youth but glows to own decline.

Hafiz (one of the greatest Iranian poet)
Thomas law


At 6:33 PM , Blogger Georg said...

Great poem. Hafis is well known in the West.

The line "the spring flowers blossom to decay" reminds me a line of a French poem that goes like this:

"Et rose elle a vécu ce que vivent les roses,
l'espace d'un matin".

That's from François de Malherbe who lived about 400 years ago


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