Inner burning fever, the sorrow of separation, and swelling from walking on foot—there are so many afflictions, yet I possess no remedy for them.

The poet paints a poignant picture of love’s toll on both body and soul—an inward burning fever, the ache of separation, and feet swollen from relentless, weary wandering. After listing this heavy catalogue of ailments, he admits with gentle helplessness that he keeps no remedies at all. It reflects a state of tender surrender to heartbreak, where the lover accepts his suffering, knowing that no worldly medicine can cure an ache that only the beloved can heal.