A woman in love is a candle;
Her love and the candle’s flame are to burn.
Her pining is the candle’s burning.
They pine and burn and exhaust themselves.
A man in love is like a fly;
Both are in flight towards their targets
Of love and flame, to which they succumb
By one longing and the other by falling.
The candle is burnt; so is the beloved.
The fly is burnt; so is the lover.
No doubt, the end for them is mere ash
But their pursuits gave them enough push.