Meanwhile, Layla holds their love quietly so none will know
she lived between the water of her tears and the fire of her love . . .
Yet her lover's voice reached her. Was he not a poet? No tent curtain was woven so closely as to keep out his poems. Every child from the bazaar was singing his verses; every passer-by was humming one of his love-songs, bringing Layla a message from her beloved . . . -- p. 40
Refusing suitors, she writes answers to his poems and casts them to the wind.
It happened often that someone found one of these little papers, and guessed the hidden meaning, realizing for whom they were intended. Sometimes he would go to Majnun hoping to hear, as a reward, some of the poems which had become so popular. . . .
Thus many a melody passed to and fro between the two nightingales, drunk with their passion. -- p. 41
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