No One Has Seen Your Face, and Yet
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.