top of page

The Wayward Intellect

He who was parading his “I” and “we”

          in a hundred different ways yesterday,

today I saw crying,

          “O my Lord, O my God!”

I said, “Be thankful

          for God’s concealment;

He could have exposed you

          for your shameless stubbornness.”

The wayward intellect,

          known for infamy and ill-repute,

was mocking

          and shaming love.

But in the end the harvest

          of its existence was scattered to the winds,

although in private

          it would deny this fact.

In madness love erased

          the book of knowledge, 

while the man of reason watched

          from outside love’s circle.

Love’s method

          is total silence,

Otherwise, its eloquence of speech

          would cause an uproar.

Those slain by love

          have no desire to talk or be heard.

Otherwise, Nurbakhsh, too,

          would have created a commotion.

bottom of page