Hafiz

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Born in Shiraz in 1320 (100 years after Rumi and at the same time as Chaucer in England) as Shams-ud-din Muhammed, Hafiz is the most beloved poet of Persia. He came from a poor family and was a bakers-assistant by day while putting himself through school in the evenings. Under the guidance of his teacher Muhammed Attar, he developed not only his poetry, but also his spirituality. In his own words:

Hafiz has become
One of the greatest spies upon God
This world has ever seen.


Contents

About Hafiz

By the time he was 60, he was know throughout Persia as an amazing poet, speaking of the soul's yearning for love, for companionship, and for that personal relationship with the divine. His words are sometimes playful, sometimes serious. At times he is our guide, our teacher, and other times he is a student or a lover. Always, he speaks to the heart clearly and deeply, and shows us love.

Some of his work

Let's eat

Why


Just show you God's menu?


Hell, we are all


Starving -


Let's


Eat!


A Hunting Party

A


Hunting party


Sometimes has a greater chance


Of flushing love and God


Out into the open


Than a warrior


All


Alone


You're It

God

Disguised

As a myriad things and

Playing a game

Of tag


Has kissed you and said,

"You're it -


I mean, you're Really IT!"


Now

It does not matter

What you believe or feel


For something wonderful,


Magor-league Wonderful,

Is someday going

To

Happen


The Sun Never Says

Even

After

All this time

The sun never says to the earth,


"You owe

Me."


Look

What happens

With a love like that.

It lights the

Whole

Sky.


This One Is Mine

Someone put

You on a slave block

And the unreal bought

You.


Now I keep coming to your owner

Saying,


"This one is mine."


You often overhear us talking

And this can make your heart leap

With excitement.


Don't worry.

I will not let sadness

Possess you.


I will gladly borrow all the gold

I need


To get you

Back.


Someone Untied Your Camel

I cannot sit still with my countrymen in chains.

I cannot act mute

Hearing the world's loneliness

Crying near the Beloved's Heart.


My love for God is such

That I could dance with Him tonight without you,

But I would rather have you there.


Is your caravan lost?


It is,

If you no longer weep from gratitude or happiness,

Or weep

From being cut deep with the awareness

Of the extraordinary beauty

That emanates form the most simple act

And common object.


My dear, is your caravan lost?


It is if you can no longer be kind to yourself

And loving to those who must live

With the sometimes difficult task of loving you.


At least come to know

That someone untied your camel last night

For I hear its gentle voice

Calling for God in the desert.


At least come to know

That Hafiz will always hold a lantern

With galaxies blooming inside

And that


I will always guide your soul to

The divine warmth and exhilaration

Of our Beloved's

Tent.


The Gift

Our

Union is like this:


You feel cold

So I reach for a blanket to cover

Our shivering feet.


A hunger comes into your body

So I run to my garden

And start digging potatoes.


You ask for a few words of comfort and guidance,

I quickly kneel at your side offering you

This whole book -

As a gift.


You ache with loneliness one night

So much you weep


And I say,


Here's a rope,

Tie it around me,


Hafiz

Will be your companion

For life.


The Sad Game

Blame


Keeps the sad game going.


It keeps stealing all your wealth -


Giving it to an imbecile with


No financial skills.


Dear one,


Wise


Up.


It Felt Love

How

Did the rose

Ever open its heart


And give to this world

All its

Beauty?


It felt the encouragement of light

Against its

Being.


Otherwise,


We all remain


Too


Frightened.

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