Chapter III: Conversation between the Candle and the Moth

I remembered one night lying sleepless in bed,That I heard what the moth to the fair candle said :"A lover am I, if I burn it is well!Why you should be weeping and burning, do tell.""Oh my poor humble lover !" the candle replied,"My friend, the sweet honey, away from me hied.When sweetness away from my body departs,A fire like Farhad's to my summit then starts."Thus she spoke and, each moment, a torrent of painAdown her pale cheeks trickled freely, like rain."Oh suitor ! with love you have nothing to do,Since nor patience nor power of standing have you.Oh crude one ! a flame makes you hasten away ;But I, till completely consumed, have to stay.If the burning of love makes your wings feel the heat,See how I am consumed, from the head to the feet !"But a very small portion had passed of the night,When a fairy-faced maiden extinguished her light.She was saying, while smoke from her head curled above,"Thus ends, oh my boy, the existence of love!"If the love-making science you wish to acquire,You're more happy extinguished than being on fire.Do not weep o'er the grave of the slain for the Friend !Be glad! for to him He will mercy extend.If a lover, don't wash the complaint from your head !Like Sadi, wash selfishness from you, instead !From his object, a faithful one will not refrain,Although on his head stones and arrows they rain !I have told you : don't enter this ocean at all !If you do; yield your life to the hurricane squall!