Happy Days

Happy Days
Happy Days

Happy days were when your hand was by my side, Signs of your love, my features beautified, when your words crucified, Then my soul resurrected, upward glide.

Happy days were when the wine, we glorified, God was with me while by my side was my bride, when your candle was my guide And my heart, like a moth, your flames would ride.

Happy days were when amidst knowledge and pride, The drunken laughter was dignified, when we drank from the cup in our stride And told tales of the things that we tried.

Happy days were when Beloved would decide, On the sun and moon, in service, relied. Happy days in the tavern I would abide and Saw the things that from the temple would hide, when your signal verified; Made the crooked straight, Hafiz, narrow, wide. – Hafiz , Ghazal 204


There was a time when I did my very best to have at least some knowledge of the ancient Sufis, but I seem to have forgotten most of it as I became increasingly bored with names and forms, but I thought I’d look up Hafiz and say at least a little for folks who may not have much knowledge of Sufi poetry (I am probably one of them).  This is what I found on Wikipedia (in part):  Khwāja Shams-ud-Dīn Muḥammad Ḥāfeẓ-e Shīrāzī, known by his pen name Hafez, was a Persian poet who “lauded the joys of love and wine but also targeted religious hypocrisy.”  I thought that was plenty to say:  that, and that we need to remember, even in this election year, happy days are still available.

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