III: I know not, in the least, whether this…

I know not, in the least, whether this is love, or whether fire:
Do I consume in it of my own choice, or is this compulsion?

Is this the incurable agony of the tender passion, that thus killeth me,
Or a viper, for whose sting, there is neither antidote nor charm?

Since I have no pretty and lovable companion by my side,
This is, in reality, no dwelling; it is, verily and truly, a grave!

Be not disturbed, shouldst thou be reviled, on love's account;
For such like abuse is the acme of all greatness whatsoever.

Since thou severest my heart's fibres, and leavest none sound,
Are these the arched eyebrows of the beloved, or a reaping-hook?

Is it, indeed, the stigma attendant upon the dark-eyes' glances,
Which, notwithstanding loss of life and goods, leaveth me not?

Do not be in any way abashed, by the censure love bringeth on;
For it is the embroidered decorations of existence itself.

Since it hath preserved me safely, from mine own sorrows,
Is this love's anguish, or is it my sympathizing consoler?

Whoever entereth on love's path must, indeed, endure its pangs;
For this is an excellent present to send after the bride.

When I beheld Hamid over head and ears in love's affairs,
I found him mad--in sooth, Majnun's elder brother.