I was first introduced to Hafiz (also spelled Hafez) by Robert Bly, who included a number of his poems in The Soul Is Here For Its Own Joy. And yes, if you think I have a thing for that book, you're right.
An acquaintance who grew up in Iran informed me that on Persian New Year, people sit in a circle with a book of Hafiz's poetry. Each person opens the book to a seemingly random location, and the poem the book opens to is that person's oracle for the coming year.
A good thing I get to do in this blog post is introduce you to Daniel Ladinsky, who is emerging as translator/paraphraser/interpreter of Hafiz's poetry.
Translating poetry is tricky. Ladinsky claims his renderings are an attempt to be "faithful to the living spirit" of Hafiz, as well as other mystical poets.
I shared this poem with the people at my local wineshop. What happened? One person appreciated this poem, while two others looked at me as if I were insane.
If you were planning to move to a foreign country,
and thought you might never return,
would it not then be prudent to acclimate yourself
to whatever custom they might have
of, say...only drinking one certain form of liquid
and nothing else?
Then, dears, run to the wineshop, run.
For in Heaven, what can increase your soul's expanse
is all that is ever served.
This poem can be found in "A Year with Hafiz: Daily Contemplations"
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