Shiraz, Iran (Circa 1370)

I’m certainly no expert in the field—but for the past few years I have quite enjoyed Persian poetry, particularly the works ascribed to Khwāja Šamsu d-Dīn Muḥammad Hāfez-e Šīrāzī (Persian: خواجه شمس‌الدین محمد حافظ شیرازی), typically known by his pen name Hāfez, born in 1315 in Shiraz and passed on in the same locale 75 years later. Hāfez (often also spelled Hafiz) became the most celebrated Persian lyric poet and is often described as “the poet’s poet.” Here’s a sampling of why I really like this particular righteous old bard…

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The small man builds cages
for everyone he knows.

While the sage,
who has to duck his head
when the moon is low,
keeps dropping keys all night long
for the beautiful rowdy prisoners.

(Dropping Keys)

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Even after all these years,
the Sun never says to the Earth
“You owe Me.”

Look what happens—
with a Love like that,
It lights the whole sky.

(The Sun Never Says)

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God and I have become
like two giant fat people
living in a tiny boat.

We keep bumping into
each other and
l
a
u
g
h
i
n
g.

(Two Giant Fat People)