Ghazal 14

The lover in love is not wounded by the arrows of blame; the madman has no taste for the ways of the wise. What thought could he spare for our pain, what fear for our plight, someone whose heart is not bound and whose foot is not caught in the snare? Farhad, whose heart clings to Shirin, has no craving for healing balms, no need for sweetness. Wherever the fire of the beloved's sorrow flares up, gladly cast your life into it, for this is no place for wild rue. Stop, Obeyd, arguing with a heart gone wild; our advice does the poor wretch no good.