What Is, Is in Love – Mazun – D. Wilde’s Poetic English Rendition

What Is, Is in Love (D-S6)

Like a moth circling a burning candle,
I love my friend’s face.
Give me your hand,
and nothing else.

If my body were dissected
joint by joint, my love
of my friend would leak
from elbow, wrist and knee,
and nothing else.

Before the clocks of creation
began to tick, God asked everyone:
“Am I not your lord?”
and like a choral symphony
we all replied in unison, “You are!”
and nothing else.

When the drums of that reply
are faintly heard, an echo,
then the friend is tested
by his enemy – he hears
and speaks of love
and nothing else.

By darkness, light. By light,
darkness. One drills down
for gems; and one looks up.
The kings and sultans, presidents
and ministers through all eternity
have long since turned to dirt.
But spirits descended
from every lover who ever lived
still walk the earth.
What is, is in love,
and nothing else.

Holy reverence to my father,
who told my teacher: “Give him
your hand and guide him
through love’s lessons,
nothing else.”

Like the windswept barren desert,
Majnun’s tears.
Nothing else.

If Mazun dies dirt-poor, no worry –
on his tomb write:
In this place lives love,
and nothing else.