Love of the Beloved burned me like a candle, head to foot.
My soul-bird burned like a moth, wing and feather.
The fire of her love smoked my heart like aloes;
then her fire consumed both the smoke and the aloes.
A coal from her face fell into the desert:
both worlds burned like kindling from her ember.
I was to offer my soul to the soul-mate.
The Beloved outsmarted me; I got burnt.
by: Attar of Nishapur
source: Fifty poems of Attar