Attar (1119 - 1230?) saint and mystic, one of the most voluminous authors in Persian literature on religious topics. His best-known work, Conference of the Birds, is an elaborate allegory of the soul's quest for reunion with God.

Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer 'thou' and 'I' exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.

Farid ud Din Attar - translation Margaret Smith -The Jawhar Al-Dhat

In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."

Farid ud Din Attar, translation by Andrew Harvey and Eryk Hanut - 'Perfume of the Desert'

The whole world is a marketplace for Love,
For naught that is, from Love remains remote.
The Eternal Wisdom made all things in Love.
On Love they all depend, to Love all turn.
The earth, the heavens, the sun, the moon, the stars
The center of their orbit find in Love.
By Love are all bewildered, stupefied,
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.

From each, Love demands a mystic silence.
What do all seek so earnestly? "Tis Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts,
In Love no longer "Thou" and "I" exist,
For self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul
Behold the Friend, Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds
Will find that the secret of them both is Love.

Farid ud Din Attar, in Essential Sufism, James Fadiman and Robert Frager

Four Things to Know

Hatim al-Asamm said, "I have chosen four things to know
and discarded all other things of knowledge.
"The first is this: I know that my daily bread is apportioned
to me and will neither be increased or decreased, so I have stopped
trying to add to it.
"Secondly, I know I owe to God a debt which no one else can
pay for me, so I am busy about paying it.
"Thirdly, I know that there is someone pursuing me ---
Death --- whom I cannot escape from, so I have prepared myself
to meet him.
"Fourth, I know that God is observing me, so I am ashamed
to do what I should not."

Farid ud Din Attar, translation by Andrew Harvey and Eryk Hanut - 'Perfume of the Desert'

In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."

Farid ud Din Attar, translation by Andrew Harvey and Eryk Hanut - 'Perfume of the Desert'

Hafiz of Shiraz (1230-91) the greatest lyric poet of Persia, who took the poetic form of the ghazal to unparalleled heights of subtlety and beauty.

I speak frankly and that makes me happy:
I am the slave of love, I am free of both worlds.

I am a bird from heaven's garden. How do I describe that separation,
my fall into this snare of accidents?

I was an angel and highest paradise was my place.
Adam brought me to this monastery in the city of ruin.

The hours' caress, the pool and shade trees of paradise
were forgotten in the breeze from your alleyway.

There is nothing on the tablet of my heart but my love's tall alif.
What can I do? My master taught me no other letter.

No astrologer knew the constellations of my fate.
O lord, when I was born of mother earth which stars were rising?

Ever since I became a slave at the door of love's tavern
sorrows come to me each moment with congratulations.

The pupil of my eye drains the blood from my heart.
I deserve it. Why did I give my heart to the darling of others?

Wipe the tears from Hafiz's face with soft curls
or else this endless torrent will uproot me.

Hafiz - Ghazal 44 - "The Green Sea of Heaven" - Elizabeth T. Gray Jr

The sun

Won a beauty contest and became a jewel
Set upon God’s right hand.

The earth agreed to be a toe ring on the
Beloved’s foot
And has never regretted its decision.

The mountains got tired
Of sitting amongst a sleeping audience

And are now stretching their arms
Toward the Roof.

The clouds gave my soul an idea
So I pawned my gills
And rose like a winged diamond

Ever trying to be near
More love, more love
Like you.

The Mountain got tired of sitting
Amongst a snoring crowd inside of me
And rose like a rip sun
Into my eye.

My soul gave my heart a brilliant idea
So Hafiz is rising like a
Winged diamond.

Hafiz - "œThe Gift" — translation by Daniel Ladinsky

We are the guardians of His Beauty

We are the protectors
Of the Sun.

There is only one reason
We have followed God into this world:

To encourage laughter, freedom, dance
And love.

Let a noble cry inside of you speak to me
Saying,

"Hafiz,
Don't just sit there on the moon tonight
Doing nothing -

Help unfurl my heart into the Friend's Mind,
Help, Old Man, to heal my wounded wings!"

We are the companions of His Beauty
We are the guardians
Of Truth.

Every man, plant and creature in Existence,
Every woman, child, vein and note
Is a servant of our Beloved -

A harbinger of joy,
The harbinger of
Light.

Hafiz - "The Subject Tonight is Love" - Daniel Ladinsky

Mortal never won to view thee,
Yet a thousand lovers woo thee;
Not a nightingale but knows
In the rose-bud sleeps the rose.

Love is where the glory falls
Of thy face: on convent walls
Or on tavern floors the same
Unextinguishable flame.

Where the turban'd anchorite
Chanteth Allah day and night,
Church-bells ring the call to prayer,
And the Cross of Christ is there.

Hafiz - "Persian Poems" - R.A. Nicholson

Come,
let's scatter roses and pour wine in the glass;
we'll shatter heaven's roof and lay a new foundation.
If sorrow raises armies to shed the blood of lovers,
I'll join with the wine bearer so we can overthrow them.
With a sweet string at hand, play a sweet song, my friend,
so we can clap and sing a song and lose our heads in dancing.

Hafiz (Ghani-Qazvini, no 374) ' the Shambhala Guide to Sufism' Carl.W Ernst, Ph.D.