|
|
|
Love
|
|
This
is taken from Maznavi of the celebrated
Farsi poet Jalauddin Rumy
A true lover is proved such by his pain
of heart;
No sickness is there like sickness of
heart.
The lover's ailment is different from
all ailments;
Love is the astrolabe of God's mysteries.
A lover may hanker after this love or
that love,
But at the last he is drawn to the KING
of love.
However much we describe and explain love,
When we fall in love we are ashamed of
our words.
Explanation by the tongue makes most things
clear,
But love unexplained is clearer.
When pen hasted to write,
On reaching the subject of love it split
in twain.
When the discourse touched on the matter
of love,
Pen was broken and paper torn.
In explaining it Reason sticks fast, as
an ass in mire;
Naught but Love itself can explain love
and lovers!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|