No One Has Seen Your Face, and Yet

Hafez

No one has seen your face, and yet
Thousands of rivals seek you;
You're still a bud and yet a hundred
Nightingales entreat you.

However far I am from you
(May no one know that place!)
I cannot help but hope that soon
I'll be in your embrace.

And it's not strange that I should choose
Your street in which to wait—
Thousands of strangers in this world
Are in the selfsame state.

The loved one doesn't spare a glance—
The lover must endure it;
And there's no pain, or if there is
The doctor's here to cure it.

In love, the Sufi meeting house
And wine-shop are one place;
As are all places where we find 
The loved one's radiant face;

And what the Sufis make a show of
Can be found equally
Among the monks, before their cross,
Within a monastery.

Hafez's cry is not mere nonsense
When all is said and done;
Though it's a strangely curious tale,
And a perplexing one.