The intellectual is always showing off,
the lover is always getting lost.
The intellectual runs away, afraid of drowning,
the whole business of love is to drown in the sea.
Intellectuals plan their repose,
overs are ashamed to rest.
The lover is always alone, even surrounded with people,
like water and oil, he remains apart.
The man who goes to the trouble of giving advice to a lover gets nothing.
He's mocked by passion.
Love is like musk.
It attracts attention.
Love is a tree, and lovers are its shade.
Rumi
