If a naive and desperate man
Brings a precious stone
To the only jeweller in town,
Wanting to sell it,
The jeweller’s eyes
Will begin to play a game,
Like most eyes in the world when they look at you.
The jeweller’s face will stay calm.
He will not want to reveal the stone’s true value,
But to hold the man captive to fear and greed
While he calculates
The value of the transaction
But one moment with me, my dear,
Will show you that there is nothing, nothing Hafiz wants from you.
When you sit before a Master like me,
Even if you are a drooling mess,
My eyes sing with Excitement
They see your Divine Worth