The Rhyme Maker
stanza: These lines place the time of the poem in the month of
Sha'aban, the eighth month of the Islamic year, which precedes the
month of Ramazan – a time of fasting.
- S. H. Bass
Notes: Persian Wine Poetry
Arise! and fill a golden goblet up
Arise, oh Cupbearer, rise!
Forget not when dear friend
From out the street of So-and-So
From the garden of Heaven
Hast thou forgotten
not reproach at the drunkard's door
Spring, to linger in a garden fair
My friend has fled
all the sum of earthly happiness
Not one is filled with madness
Cup-bearer, set my glass afire
sweet Singer, fresh notes strew
The bird of gardens sang unto the rose
The rose has flushed red
The rose is not fair
secret draft of wine
What drunkenness is this
What is wrought in the forge
is my ruined life
Wind from the east
Richard Le Gallienne
the morning breaks
returns of this good day
do you think this is a time
night, as half asleep I dreaming lay
hermitage the tavern is
Saki – take the wine away
I've good news for you – the spring
more red wine
for God's love, come and fill
Abbot of the Wine-House
an unstable world
Gallons of old wine
ails thee, Saki! Wine
thus I sit with roses in my breast
last night’s wine still singing
English translations of Hafiz:
of Hafiz (unknown - 1875)
Feast Of Spring (Whinfield - 1917)
breath of Dawn's musk-strewing wind shall blow
(c. 1320-1389), Persian poet
by Gertrude Bell (1868-1926), British writer
breath of Dawn's musk-strewing wind shall blow,
ancient world shall turn to youth again,
other wines from out Spring's chalice flow;
the judas-tree shall set before
pure white jessamine a brimming cup,
wind flowers lift their scarlet chalice up
the star-pale narcissus to adore.
long-drawn tyranny of grief shall pass,
shall end in meeting, the lament
the sad bird that sang "Alas, alas!"
reach the rose in her red-curtained tent.
from the mosque! the tavern calls to me!
hinder us? The preacher's homily
long, but life will soon be spent!
foolish Heart! the pleasures of To-day,
thou abandon, will To-morrow stand
surety for the gold thou'st thrown away?
Sha'aban the troops of Grief disband,
crown the hours with wine's red coronet
sun of merriment ere long will set,
meager Ramazan is close at hand!
is the rose now, now her sweets proclaim,
yet the purple petals blush and blow;
adown the path of Spring she came,
by the path of Autumn she will go.
while we listen, Minstrel, tune thy lay!
hast said: "The Present steals away;
Future comes, and bringing what? Dost know?"
by thy melody did Hafiz rise
of the darkness near thy lips to dwell;
to the dark again his pathway lies
out, sing clear, and singing cry: Farewell!
from Poems From The Divan of Hafiz (1897)
From The Divan of Hafiz (1897)
by Gertrude Bell (1868-1926)
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