The Messenger Delivers the Message

That eloquent bird with its pure heart, once I began this tale before it, grew aware of my heart's sorrow. It turned to fire and rode away on the wind. It went to the quiet chamber of the one who is my peace, slipping away, hidden from every eye. It told her the tale from every angle, telling it beautifully, like a master. Moment by moment it recounted my grief to her, though it spoke only a drop of a whole ocean. Whenever it recalled a hint from this story, that jasmine-cheeked beauty cried out at the words. With artful skill it kept its distance from plain speech, and by that art it preserved her modesty.