Where is the pious doer? I the estray'd one

Where is the pious doer? & I the estray’d one, where?
Behold how far the distance, from his safe home to here!

Dark is the stony desert, trackless & vast & dim,
Where is hope’s guiding lantern? Where is faith’s star so fair?

My heart fled from the cloister, & chant of monkish hymn,
What can avail me sainthood, fasting & punctual prayer?

What is the truth shall light me to heav’n’s strait thoroughfare?
Whither, O heart, thus hastest? Arrest thee & beware!

See what a lone adventure is thine unending quest!
Fraught with what deadly danger! Set with what unseen snare!

Say not, O friend, to Hafez, ‘Quiet thee now & rest!’
Calm & content, what are they? Patience & peace, O where?

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