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This song is part of a series based on the poems of Hafiz in his book Little Book of Life made new by Erfan Mojib & Gary Gach. This one is the 3rd poem in the book. Poem & Lyrics below. Song on Suno; Video Editing on Clipchamp; captions on MixCaptions; assistance from Lyra (my ChatGPT AI.) Hafiz poem 3: To cut off my desire for life / Would be easy, next to cutting off / Dear / Friends City of Friends We met between two open doors with dust on our shoes and bread to share. The road was long, the map unsure, but we were never walking there alone. You knew my name before I spoke; I knew your silence wasn’t cold. We didn’t rush, we didn’t race, we learned each other’s pace. When the world said hurry up, you said stay. When the noise got loud, you showed me how to wait. This is a city of friends, even when the lights go low. This is a language we speak, that the hard world doesn’t know. We won’t beg for what is given. We won’t kneel to fear or lies. If the birds have all gone quiet, we’ll be the ones who try. They shut the tavern, locked the door, said joy was dangerous to name, but we still poured our cups with care and called devotion by its flame. You held my hand when song went thin, when harps were stripped of voice. You said love doesn’t need permission; it only needs a choice. When the city fell to dark, you stayed near, lit a candle in the quiet, said I’m here. This is a city of friends, built from patience and truth, from bread passed at the table and the faith of staying human through. We won’t trade our tenderness for crowns or empty praise. If compassion’s gone missing, we’ll lead it back this way. Let the eagle spread its shadow. Let the masks pretend to rule. We have laughter in our pockets and a love they can’t unlearn. Friendship isn’t loud or perfect; it doesn’t posture, doesn’t beg. It shows up with open hands and says your life is not a debt. This is a city of friends, not a memory, not a dream. It’s every time we choose each other over what we’re told to be. We’ll walk slow, we’ll walk together. We’ll rest when we are worn. If the nightingales are hunted, we’ll hum the song till morning comes. Between these doors, between this breath, I give you what I have left. If love still lives anywhere, it lives right here. It lives right here. Hafiz. Hafiz's Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.