The Nightingales are Drunk by Hafez.

Translated by D. Davis

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Poem Eleven.

Part 2 of 2.

But those whose lives are centered on
Your lovely mouth confess
No other thoughts than this, and think
Nothing of Nothingness.

An ambush waits on every side
Wherever we might tread,
And so life's rider rides slack-reined,
Giving the horse its head.

I've lived my life without a life -
Don't be surprised at this;
Who counts on absence as a life
When life is what you miss?

Speak Hafez! On the world's page trace
Your poem's narrative;
The words your pen writes will have life
When you no longer live.