The burning of my heart burned me continuously like a candle and ended me completely; other than this, nothing else came of this inner burning.

Here, the poet draws a melancholic parallel between himself and a solitary candle, slowly and inevitably consumed by its own flame. He reflects with quiet irony that the intense fire burning in his heart (*soz-e-jigar*) brought neither union nor transcendent peace—it merely burned him down until nothing remained. It speaks to the tragic futility of suffering in love, where one gives everything away only to find that the fire achieved nothing except their own quiet end.