KEY POINTS:
It will come as no surprise that in the Islamic Republic of Iran almost every house will own at least one copy of the Koran.
More surprisingly however to first-time visitors at least, is that the Koran will almost always be sharing shelf space with an edition of
Hafez - Iran's most loved and respected lyric poet.
Hafez lived in the 14th century but his poems about love, life and spirituality seem to speak to resonate with readers today just as they did nearly 600 years ago.
Hafez was born in the southern Iranian city of Shiraz and unlike some of the more widely travelled Persian poets; he lived most of his life in his hometown.
His tomb is in the heart of the city, in more ways than one - it is very near the top of the list for visiting Iranian tourists and is always popular with the locals.
Hafez's marble tomb sits on a plinth under a cupola supported by slim pillars. It is set in a garden of pools, fountains, fragrant flowers and fruit trees. There is a ritual that should be followed when one visits here. Poetry pilgrims climb the steps, reach down to touch the cool marble with their fingertips and then recite a little of his poetry.
In Iran it seems almost everyone can recite some Hafez and probably lines by several other poets as well. Such is the importance of Hafez however that his poetry is also used to divine the future. Those looking for a little guidance will open up a book of his poetry at random and then interpret the words.
They can get a little extra help with this at the tomb as men wait at the gate with little birds that are trained to pick out a card featuring an excerpt of Hafez complete with interpretation.
When I was at the tomb recently, preparing with my Iranian friend to do a reading of Hafez in English and Persian, we were delayed slightly by two Iranian ladies who asked to borrow our Persian version. They told us they'd forgotten their book and needed it desperately so they could check out their future prospects.
My beautifully illustrated copy of Hafez with its flowing calligraphy and glowing paintings of roses and nightingales was duly opened and the words pored over. They smiled happily (clearly Hafez had good news) as they returned it.
We returned to our reading..... "This cloak I have is better pawned for wine, and this meaningless notebook is better drowned in it
Now that I look back at my wasted life
It is better to have fallen down drunk in the tavern corner
Prudence and proper thoughts lie far from the dervish way
Better to fill your breast with fire and your eye with tears"
I read the English, Reza the mellifluous Persian.
Once we could have combined poetry with tea in the teahouse that used to operate behind the shrine. But apparently the owner put up the lease so high the leaseholder couldn't afford to keep it open.
The teahouse was set around a small courtyard complete with tiny fountain and the waiters were dressed in baggy trousers with silk cummerbunds. Almost everyone who sipped tea here would have their poetry books with them. Hafez would have been horrified that this was no longer possible. After all, this was the poet who said "Life's a riddle - give it up; There is no answer to it but this cup"
Jill Worrall
This blog entry was written before her current trip to India.
