My heart is like the failing hearth
Now by my side,
One by one its bursts of flame
Have burnt and died.

Your hair is winter fire
January embers
My heart burns there, too.

A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke

There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.

Someone has a great fire in his soul and nobody ever comes to warm themselves at it, and passers-by see nothing but a little smoke at the top of the chimney and then go on their way.

The flames of the heart consumed me, and the mind
Is but a foolish wind.

I've been crying, 'cause I'm lonely for you
Smiles have all turned to tears
But tears won't wash away the fears
That you're never ever gonna return
To ease the fire that within me burns.

It feels like I’ve got all the flames in hell burning in my head.

Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.

Fires that shook me once, but now to silent ashes fall'n away. Cold upon the dead volcano sleeps the gleam of dying day.

The fire in my heart is turned to ashes.
I feel like a monk;
Only my head is still unshaven. O poor heart!
How wind and rain have worn you out!
How the partings from friends, dead and alive,
Have torn you to pieces! This orphan-like candlestick
Appears like an old friend to me. There remains one thing alone
That keeps me from a complete Awakening:—
Love still smoulders in the ashes of my heart!

Ne'er fire without smoke was seen.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns:
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

To thee, to thee, my fire! Thou hast been burning in my heart all these futile years. If my life were a piece of gold it would come out of its trial brighter, but it is a trodden turf of grass, and nothing remains of it but this handful of ashes.