Sometimes my collar is torn, and sometimes I am scattering dust in the air; my madness drags me wandering all about, sometimes in this condition and sometimes in that.
In classical poetry, love isn't gentle—it is a wild storm that completely unravels you. Here, the poet paints the classic portrait of Majnoon-like madness: one moment he tears at his collar in agony, and the next, he wanders aimlessly throwing dust in the air. His restless obsession (wahshat) has taken total control, dragging him wherever it pleases and leaving him no peace.
Interpretation note: meanings and explanations may be AI-assisted and should not replace a primary text or scholarly edition. See the editorial policy.
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