The Astrolabe (a poem by Rumi)

The Astrolabe - a Poem by Rumi (my own loose translation)

My own recast, with some artistic license, from Persian (in tradition of Coleman Barks, using other translations and Google translate, and dictionaries etc as references)

Love is defined by that pang in some heart;
No longing equals that of a heart set apart.

The pain of disentangling is man’s signature in history.
But Love is the astrolabe of God’s mystery.

Love for this one.
That one.
Whomsoever.
In the end can only lead us to our
Master of All Masters.

Strive as you will to describe and explain
You’ll find your Love puts thought to shame.

To call by tongue draws Most Things nearer;
Yet Always: a Love unexplained Is clearer.

The pen went hurrying along mad treatises
When it tried to write “love”,
it shattered in pieces.

The lofty intellectual collapses on himself:
An ass, on his ass, sitting in the mud!

An ass resting on his ass—a love resting on its love.
The sun demonstrates herself.

Need proof? It is this! Look up!
And don’t you dare turn your face away from me.

(The forward to “The Astrolabe: A Curious Microcosm” by Jennifer Nielsen).