Wow, just wow – there is some fantastic poetry by Hafiz!
Never having heard of him before, this book basically fell into my lap last week when I ended up taking a 4-hour bus ride. A cute, very young, outdoorsy-looking guy boarded the bus and sat down behind me. He pulled out a pillow and blanket, ready to nap for the long ride, but we ended up chatting a bit first. Before he settled in to sleep, he handed me this book and said it was easy reading for the bus ride. I had my own book I had wanted to read along with a handful of magazines, writing material, and my iPad, but I was appreciative of his thoughtfulness so I took the book to look it over.
Now this is the kind of book that would have enticed me to pick it up had I seen it sitting ANYWHERE and I spent the better part of the bus ride enjoying not only the poems but the feel of the book in general. Where had this book been? The pages were soft and well worn, many of them dog-eared, some stained by food, others filled with underlined sentences. Graffiti-like drawings in both pencil and pen were scattered throughout its entirety. And penned onto one of the front pages of the book was a note addressed to the young traveler from someone who wanted him chained to their body, saying they would sing for days. I felt like I had happened upon an incredibly personal note and was reading something I shouldn’t. How unusual a thing for someone to write, I thought, but how cool, intense, and very sweet. As I continued to make my way through the book, I found the original someone that wrote those very words.
“All these words are just a front. What I would really like to do is chain you to my body, then sing for days and days and days.” – Hafiz
I thoroughly enjoyed the time I got to spend with Hafiz on that day and ended up writing down a few of his poems to take with me. At some point I’m going to have to find a copy of this book for myself so I can linger even longer over each page and add my own drawings, underlines, and dog ears. Maybe I’ll inscribe a note in the front, borrowing one of my favorite pieces from Hafiz himself. Then perhaps I’ll loan it to a stranger so they too can linger – and wonder.