·         Where is sensible action, & my insanity whence?
See the difference, it is from where to whence.
From the church & hypocritical vestments, I take offence
Where is the abode of the Magi, & sweet wine whence?
For dervishes, piety and sensibility make no sense
Where is sermon and hymn, & the violin's music whence.
Upon seeing our friend, our foes put up their defense
Where is a dead lantern, & the candle of the sun whence?
My eye-liner is the dust of your door and fence
Where shall I go, tell me, you command me whence?
Take your focus from your chin to the trap on the path hence,
Where to O heart, in such hurry you go whence?
May his memory of union be happy and intense
Where are your amorous gestures, & your reproach whence?
Make not restlessness & insomnia, Hafiz's sentence
What is rest, which is patience, and sleep whence?

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
Februaru 1, 2000

·         That beautiful Shirazi Turk, took control and my heart stole,
I'll give Samarkand & Bukhara, for her Hindu beauty mole.
O wine-bearer bring me wine, such wine not found in Heavens
By running brooks,  in flowery fields, spend your days and stroll.
Alas, these sweet gypsy clowns, these agitators of our town
Took the patience of my heart, like looting Turks take their toll.
Such unfinished love as ours, the Beloved has no need,
For the Perfect Beauty, frills and adornments play no role.
I came to know Joseph's goodness, that daily would increase
Even the chaste Mistress succumbed to the love she would extol.
Whether profane or even cursed, I'll reply only in praise
Sweetness of tongue and the lips, even bitterness would enthrall.
Heed the advice of the wise, make your most endeared goal,
The fortunate blessed youth, listen to the old wise soul.
Tell tales of song and wine, seek not secrets of the world,
None has found and no-one will, knowledge leaves this riddle whole.
You composed poems and sang, Hafiz, you spent your days well
Venus wedded to your songs, in the firmaments' inverted bowl.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
October 18, 1999

·         Kindly tell the tender deer, O morning breeze
I am wandering your desert and the wild countries.
Long live the sugar merchant, but why
Is he unkind to sweet lovers, the honey-bees?
Tender rose, pride in your goodness forbids
To ask the manic nightingale of his fantasies.
Only with gentle compassion can you trap the wise.
The wise bird from any snare simply flees.
I know not why there is no familiarity
With the tall, black eye, bright faced beauties.
When in company of friends, glass of wine in hand
Remember old companions who travel upon the breeze.
The only criticism that I can have of you;
For kindness, the beauties charge extortionate fees.
No wonder if in the heavens, as claims Hafiz;
Venus’ song brings Christ to dancing sprees.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
March 17, 2004

·         O pious of the heart, I am lost in a love, so great
O pain the hidden secrets will become open debate.
Shipwrecked we just float, O favorable wind arise,
May we one more time gaze upon that familiar trait.
Passage of time and the stars, are but what we fantasize
For compassion and kindness, it is never too late.
In the circle of wine and roses, nightingale’s song is prize
With the aroma and the wine your senses satiate.
O Thou compassionate one, life giver and the wise
One day bestow thy grace upon this mendicant’s state.
For peace of this world and the next, understand what I advise
Magnanimity the lot of friends, and with foes try to relate.

·         In the land of repute, our passage they will dispute
If this will not suit, don’t stay mute, and transmute dictates of fate.

·         When destitute and in need, let your love and passion breed
Life’s alchemy, essence and seed, unimagined wealth shall create.

·         If unruly with pride, with a candle’s zeal your flame will rise
Beloved turns stone to lava, and molten wax manipulate.
The Grail contains but wine, if only you realize
Then the Kingdom of the world, at your feet prostrate.
The good and wise Magi, forgivers of lives and lies
Bearer bring good news, drunkards’ wine consecrate.
With this wine stained robe, Hafiz would never disguise
O untainted pure Master, exempt us from this fate.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
April 2, 1999

·         O wine-bearer brighten my cup with the wine
O minstrel say good fortune is now mine.
The face of my Beloved is reflected in my cup
Little you know why with wine, I always myself align.
Eternal is the one whose heart has awakened to Love
This is how Eternal Records my life define.
So proud are the tall beauties of the world
Outshines all the others this handsome spruce of mine.
O breeze if by chance you pass through friendly gardens
From me to my Beloved, please give a sign;
Ask why you choose to forget my name?
Will come the one to whom an audience you decline.
Intoxication pleases my Beloved and my Lord
To the wine, they would assign, my life's design.
What if on Judgment Day, no favor would be gained
From eating bread and leaving a forbidden water so fine?
Hafiz, let a tear drop or two leave your eyes,
May we ensnare the Bird of Union, divine.
The sea of the skies and the gondola of the moon
With the grace of the Master, radiantly shine.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
October 19, 1999

·         The bright moon reflects your radiant face
Your snowcapped cheekbones supply water of grace
My heavy heart desires an audience with your face
Come forward or must return, your command I will embrace.
Nobody for good measures girded your fields
Such trades no one in their right mind would chase.
Our dormant fate will never awake, unless
You wash its face and shout brace, brace!
Send a bouquet of your face with morning breeze
Perhaps inhaling your scent, your fields we envision & trace.
May you live fulfilled and long, O wine-bearer of this feast
Though our cup was never filled from your jug or your vase.
My heart is reckless, please, let Beloved know
Beware my friend, my soul your soul replace.
O God, when will my fate and desires hand in hand
Bring me to my Beloved hair, in one place?
Step above the ground, when you decide to pass us by
On this path lie bloody, the martyrs of human race.
Hafiz says a prayer, listen, and say amen
May your sweet wine daily pour upon my lips and my face.
O breeze tell us about the inhabitants of city of Yazd
May the heads of unworthy roll as a ball in your polo race.
Though we are far from friends, kinship is near
We praise your goodness and majestic mace.
O Majesty, may we be touched by your grace
I kiss and touch the ground that is your base.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
January 17, 2000

·         When you hear the lovers’ words, think them not a mistake
You don’t recognize these words, the error must be your take.
The here and hereafter cannot tame my spirit and soul
Praise God for all the intrigue in my mind that is at stake.
I know not who resides within my heart
Though I am silent, he must shake and quake.
My heart went through the veil, play a song
Hark, my fate, this music I must make.
I paid no heed, worldly affairs I forsake
It is for your beauty, beauty of the world I partake.
My heart is on fire, I am restless and awake
To the tavern to cure my hundred day headache.
My bleeding heart has left its mark in the temple
You have every right to wash my body in a wine lake.
In the abode of the Magi, I am welcome because
The fire that never dies, in my heart is awake.
What was the song the minstrel played?
My life is gone, but breathing, I still fake!
Within me last night, the voice of your love did break
Hafiz’s breast still quivers and shakes for your sake.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
April 8, 1999

·         Whoever had found his way to the tavern’s block
Would have to be insane if on another door knock
Fate never crowned any with drunkenness, except
The one who considered this the highest luck.
Whoever finds his way into the tavern
From the bounty of the wine, temple’s secrets unlock.
He who read the secrets of this wine,
Found the secrets in the dust upon which we walk.
Only seek the obedience of the insane
In our creed, logic and sanity we mock.
My heart asked not for longevity of beauty
Because sadly this is the way of the clock.
From the pain of the fading morning star at dawn
I cried so much that I saw the moon, though Venus my eyes struck.
Who talks about the story of Hafiz and his cup?
Why would the king know where the policemen flock?
Praise the King who considers the nine heavens
A mere crevice in His courtly block.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
April 2, 1999

·         Amidst flowers, wine in hand, my lover I embrace
King of the world is my slave on such a day in such a place.
Bring no candles to this, our festive feast, tonight
Full moon is pale beside the light of my lover's face.
Drinking of wine, our creed has sanctified
Yet without you, drinking wine is disgrace.
My ears only hear the song of the harp and the reed
My eyes see your ruby lips, and the cup chase.
Keep perfumes away from our feast tonight
The fragrance of your hair, our feast will grace.
Speak not to me of sweetness of candy and sugar;
Since my lips, sweetness of your lips, did once trace.
Your treasures are hidden in the ruins of my heart
And my path to the tavern has now become sacred space.
Speak not of disgrace; that's my fame and my base
And fame and high place, I despise and debase.
Drunk and disconcerted and demented and deceived
Show me one who's not, within our town and our race.
Fault not the pious one, because he, also, like us,
Is seeking love and grace, in his own way, at his own pace.
Hafiz, wine in hand, always your lover embrace
'Cause flowers and joy fill this festive time and space.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
October 20, 1999

·         I long to open up my heart
For my heart do my part.
My story was yesterday’s news
From rivals cannot keep apart.
On this holy night stay with me
Till the morning, do not depart.
On a night so dark as this,
My course, how can I chart?
O breath of life, help me tonight
That in the morn I make a start.
In my love for you, I will
My self and ego thwart.
Like Hafiz, being love smart;
I long to master that art.

·         © Shahriar Shahriari
Los Angeles, Ca
April 14, 1999

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