Unto us the bird of Fortune Yet its way belike shall make,
And with us (the Friend returning) Union stay, belike, shall make.

Though mine eyes avail no longer Pearls and gems to furnish, blood
Shall they drink and shift for strewage To purvey, belike, shall make.

None to her our case dare utter But an if the East Wind's self
Bold our story to her hearing To convey, belike, shall make.

Flown have I the glance's falcon At a pheasant, so of her,
(It to me the lure recalling), It a prey, belike, shall make.

Yestereven, “Will her ruby Lip my med'cine be?” quoth I.
Quoth the Viewless Voice, “Thy sickness Whole it, yea, belike, shall make.”

Void of lovers is the city; Yet, Love's service to fulfil,
One, somewhence, himself an off'ring To its sway, belike, shall make.

Where's the gen'rous, of the banquet Of whose mirth the sorrow-struck
Deep shall drink and with cropsickness Thus away, belike, shall make?

Faith or news of thine attainment Or the rival's death; please God,
One of these to have fulfilment Fortune's play, belike, shall make!

If from out her doorway, Hafiz, Thou remove not, yet by thee
Passage, from some privy corner, She one day, belike, shall make.