Whose dwelling, Lord, by yonder heart-Enkindling taper's lit?
Our soul's afire! For God's sake, ask Whose soul's delight is it.

I wonder in whose arms she lies And who her housemates be,
She who the edifice o'erthrown Hath of my faith and wit!

Whose soul's delight is yonder wine Of rubies of her lip?
Unto whose cup for cupgiver Did Fortune her commit?

Each at her casteth spells of love; But to whose sorceries
Her dainty heart inclining is, None knoweth anywhit.

O Lord, yon queenlike, mooncheeked maid, Yon Venus-fronted fair,
Whose peerless pearl is she, whose gem Past value exquisite?

That fair whose ruby wine, undrunk, Hath made me drunk and mad,
For whom doth she the goblet fill? In whose assembly sit?

Ask ye, 'fore God, to whom the bliss Of the companionship
Of yonder candle of delight Hath Destiny forewrit?

“Alack, for Hafiz' heart distraught,” Quoth I, “withouten thee!”
She answered, with a covert smile, “For whom distraught is it?”