Ah, what was there in that light-giving candle that it set fire to the heart, and snatched the heart away?
You who have set fire to my heart, I am consumed, O friend; come quickly, quickly!
The form of the heart is not a created form, for the beauty of God manifested itself from the cheek of the heart.
I have no succour save in his sugar, I have no profit save in his lip.
Remember him who one dawn released this heart of mine from the chain of your tress.
My soul, the first time I saw you my soul heard something from your soul.
When my heart drank water from your fountain it drowned in you, and the torrent snatched me away.
No comments:
Post a Comment