STORY CXXXIV
One had lost his heart and bidden farewell to his life, because the target which he aimed at was in a dangerous locality, portending destruction, and no chance promising a morsel easily coming to the palate, nor a bird falling into the trap.
When thy sweetheart's eye has no regard for gold,
Mud and gold are of equal value to thee.
I once advised him to abandon his aspiration to a fancy impossible of realisation, because many persons are enslaved by the same passion like himself, the feet of their hearts being in chains. He lamented and said
"Tell my friends not to give me advice, because my eyes are fixed on her wishes. By the strength of fist and shoulderswarriors slay enemies, but sweethearts a friend. It is against the requirements of love to renounce affection to our sweethearts, for fearing of losing our fives.
"Thou who art a slave to thy selfishness,
Art mendacious in the game of love.
If there be no way to reach the friend,
Friendship demands to die in pursuit of it.
"I rise, as no other resource is left to me, though the foe may smite me with arrow and sword; if chance serves me I shall take hold of her sleeve, or else I shall go and die on her threshold."
His friends, who considered his position, pitied his state, gave him advice, and at laSt confined him, but all to no purpose. Alas, that the physician should prescribe patience,[1] whereas this greedy lust requires sugar.
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- ↑ The word in the text is 'shr,' which may be read 'sabr,' meaning 'patience,' or 'sabir' 'aloes,' both of which are bitter.
