If thou with kindness call us, Pure grace it on thy part is;
And if thy wrath reject us, Untroubled still our heart is.

In writing to describe thee The possible o'erpasseth;
Beyond description's puissance Thy graces to impart is.

The face of the Beloved The eye of love discerneth;
The light of the fair's aspect, From pole to pole a star 'tis.

Read from her face's Koran A verse; for the solution
Of all the knotty sayings, In the Keshshaf that are, 'tis.

Unbending as the cypress Art thou with us, Beloved;
How many an eye, from allwhere, Fixed on thy face, flint-heart, is?

O thou, whose food Heav'n's manna And equal's none, no likeness
For thee, save in the ramparts, That Heav'n and Hell dispart, is.

The likeness of the swallow, That boasts himself a Huma,
The foe that envies Hafiz His rare poetic art is.