Love’s speech
is beyond words and meanings.
For love, there is another speaker,
another language.
The pretender challenged, saying,
“Speak of love.”
But words are wasted on one
whose heart is deaf.
He who knows the lover’s world
hears only
the whisperings of love
and kindness.
Love speaks a tongue
unknown to ordinary people;
leave behind their babble
with its headaches.
One who denies love will never grasp
our words;
nothing we could say would ever move
his lifeless heart.
In the creed of loving-kindness
there is no aimless talk;
only the bankrupt chatter
behind every door.
Nurbakhsh, from love’s breath
your speech is eloquent,
embraced by the heart
of every clear-sighted mystic.