And to have no beginning is your fate.
Your circling song is like the vault of star,
Its end is its beginning, and what was
Before all things and after shall be
Moves in the midst of all for all to see.
From you, true poet, fountain of delight,
Wave upon wave flows, countless, infinite:
Your lips forever poised to kiss,
Your soul outstreaming its sweet note,
Your loving heart outpoured, your heart
Thirsty for wine's deep mysteries.
Let the world perish, Hafiz, so
I vie with you, only with you!
Let us be twin-born brothers, two
That share our joy and share our woe!
To love and drink as you would do:
This is my pride and my life too.
Now, song, with your own fire speak bolder,
For you are newer, you are older.
-- Goethe