فرید الدین عطار, The Conference of the Birds

"Heart’s blood and bitter pain belong to love,And tales of problems no one can remove;Cupbearer, fill the bowl with blood, not wine -And if you lack the heart’s rich blood take mine. Love thrives on inextinguishable pain,Which tears the soul, then knits the threads again. A mote of love exceeds all bounds; it gives The vital essence to whatever lives. But where love thrives, there pain is always found;Angels alone escape this weary round -They love without that savage agony Which is reserved for vexed humanity."