Even though we're alone and in mourning,
Hafiz wants each of us to keep our tavern open all night.
To teach our wolves to howl.
To teach frolicking and screeching to our alley cat souls.
To bear loss in a full cup and drink it down.
In this ambiguous world, we stumble on a body
at the tip of every shadow, but we get to choose
at the last moment whether to die of grief or ecstasy.
Don't you love this bee-mused vine-tangled
land of labyrinths, each night a different flavor
of the moon, each day the pure light exiled
to new hills and valleys of color?
You were already so drunk when you arrived,
you can't be choosy about who walks you home.
Just for tonight, you saved all seven bottles
of your precious love-wine.
I will help you with them, dear.
We will work together.
You're thirsty, I'm thirsty, God is thirsty too,
but it's all the same Thirst.
Persian miniature by Mahmoud Farshchian
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