The Nightingales are Drunk by Hafez. Translated by D. Davis. Poem Eleven. Part 2 of 2. But those whose lives are centered on Your lovely mouth confess No other thoughts than this, and think Nothing of Nothingness. An ambush waits on every side Wherever we might tread, And so life's rider rides slack-reined, Giving the horse its head. I've lived my life without a life - Don't be surprised at this; Who counts on absence as a life When life is what you miss? Speak Hafez! On the world's page trace Your poem's narrative; The words your pen writes will have life When you no longer live.