1246. When thou lookest on the beloved who is clever in the art of conciliating, my Heart, thou wouldst not even take huff but wouldst rush to his embrace, forgetting all: I fear that now too thy anger is only feigned.
1247. O my Heart ! Either give up love or give up bashfulness: for, I am unable to support both of them at the same time.
1248. Thou sighest that he would not return for pity sake, and wouldst go to seek him though he separated deliberately from thee: verily, thou art a simpleton, my Heart !
1249. Whom dost thou seek to join, O my Heart, when thou knowest that the beloved is seated within thy own self ?
1250. If we entertain any longer within our hearts the beloved that hath abandoned us, we shall only waste ourselves away yet further.
