On 1st December 2011, 1301 local time, I was waiting for my flight to Kuala Lumpur via Dubai. Since I was alone, no company to engage me in a conversation, I was hiding at a corner with foods and drinks browsing internet at the Business Lounge at Jinnah International Airport. I was at that time very passionate in religious comparison and a deep learning of philosopher's poet, which quite uneasy to understand their verses of poetry. I found the famous Hafez from Shiraz, Iran who lives in Tamerlane's conquered period of time.
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This was what I wrote on those short available time about him, Hafez of Shiraz.
From a persian tale "Tamerlane (Timur) angrily summoned Hāfez to account for one of his verses, If that Shirazi Turk would take my heart in hand, I would remit Samarkand and Bukhārā for his/her Hindu mole. Samarkand was a Timur's capital and Bokhara was his kingdom's finest city. "With the blows of my lustrous (shining) sword," Timur complained, "I have subjugated (force into submission) most of the habitable globe... to embellish Samarkand and Bokhara, the seats of my government; and you would sell them for the black mole of some boy in Shiraz!" Hāfez, so the tale goes, bowed deeply and replied, "Alas, O Prince, it is this prodigality (someone behaving badly but receiving friendly welcome) which is the cause of the misery in which you find me". So surprised and pleased was Timur with this response that he dismissed Hafez with handsome gifts.
Below was 1 of his poet's collection from "Ghazal 98": By Hafez
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Last night, the wind brought wind of my Loved Friend who'd gone away.
I too shall yield my heart unto the wind: let come what may.
At length my loving comes to this: I have no confidant
but blazing lightning every night and dawn wind every day.
Defenseless in your deep curled locks, and out of me,
my heart never once said "Let me recall the body where I lay"
Today, I see my friends were wise to counsel against lovefall.
Elate my counselors' souls, O Lord, and bless the truth they say.
Remembering you, my heart was bloodstruck every time wind blew
open the rosebud's robe out on the grass in gentle play.
My weakened being leaked out through my fingertips till dawn,
whose wind blew hope of you, and brought the life back to my clay.
Hafiz, your noble heart will soon achieve your true desire.
Wherever noble men cry out, let every soul obey
Should you wish to know more about the poet, you may read his biography by clicking on the attached website http://www.hafizonlove.com/bio/.