I said : "O Monarch of be lovely, a stranger seeks thy grace this day
I heard: "The beart's deceitfull guidance inclines the stranger from his way. "
Exclaimed I then: One moment tarry!" "Nay," was tic answer, let me go;
"How can the home-bred child be troubled by stories of a stranger's woe?"
Shall one who, gently nurtured, slumbers with royal ermine or a bed,
"Care if on rocks or thorns responding the stranger rests his weary head?"
O thou whose locks told as on fetters so many a soul know long ago,
How strange that musky mole and charming upon thy cheek of vermil glow!
Strange is that ant-lute down's appearance circling the oval of thy face;
Yet musky shade is not a stranger within the Hall which paintings grace.
A crimson tint, from wine reflected gleams in that face of moonlight sheen;
I said: "O thou, whose lock so night-black is evening in the stranger's sight,"
"Be heedful if, at break of morning, the stranger sorrow for his plight."
"Hafez", the answer was, familiars. "Stand in amaze at my renown;
It is no marvel if a stranger in weariness and grief sit down."