(37) Thou wild Beast, how comest thou so great and strong? Hast thou not trampled in my Garden of Roses, and there made thee a Couch? Where are thy Brothers and Sisters? How comes it to pass, that they lie at thy Feet, and that they are so lean, and thou only art strong [and lusty?] Hast thou not devoured my Branches, and brought forth young Wolves, which devour thy I suffer thee in my Garden of Roses? Where is the noble Fruit which I sowed? Have you not turned them all into wild Branches? And where now shall I seek for the Fruit and Profit of my Garden of Roses? My Soul would fain eat of the good Fruit, but thou hast trampled all under-foot, and made it a Den of Murder.

(1) The Hoopoe replied: 'O Nightingale, you who would stay behind dazzled by the exterior form of things, cease to delight in an attachment so deluding. The love of the Rose has many thorns; it has disturbed and dominated you. Although the Rose is fair, her beauty is soon gone. One who seeks self-perfection should not become the slave of a love so passing. If the smile of the Rose arouses your desire it will only fill your days and nights with lamentations. Forsake the Rose and blush for yourself: for she laughs at you with each new Spring and then she smiles no more.'

(178) O thou fair world, how does heaven complain of thee? How dost thou trouble the elements? O wickedness and malice! when wilt thou leave, and give over? Awaken! awaken! and bring forth, thou sorrowful woman; behold thy Bridegroom cometh, and requireth fruit at thy hands: Why dost thou sleep? Behold, he knocketh!