Number 17

What heartache is this that has struck me, falling into the trap of your love, my darling? What wrong had I done, that so suddenly I fell into the hands of you, playful tyrant? With a heart like mine, I had no choice in the game of love, yet still I fell. Onto the field of your love, riding the horse of longing, I galloped hard and was thrown headlong. I never fell quite like this before, though in this way I have fallen a hundred times. From the flood of this sorrow I find no escape, for I sank like an anchor into the waves of my tears. I imagined her lips, her face, her beauty mark, and fell headfirst into flowers, musk, and sugar. My hand slipped from that dark, musky hair, and into what a fragrant dust I fell. My soul landed happily in that well, yet through my own bad luck I fell at the door. All his life Saadi has cursed his fortune: you stayed carefree, and I was left to grieve.