Hope

On the path to the Winehouse, the fate of those who run
Is the same as the pilgrims on the road to Mecca.

When I was separated from You, I closed my eyes to the world;
But hope of our union has given me back my life.

From now on, I’ll go to no one else’s door,
For You are the only one I want to see.

I have given up my fortune and have learned how to pray,
And now I can talk to You both night and day.

O Hafiz, your desire for the Beloved is like the wolf who howls at the moon;

Be quiet, and burn like a candle if doubt or violence ever come your way.

From: Drunk on the Wine of the Beloved
Translations by Thomas Rain Crowe
Published by Shambhala