You are still a bright star to me
though dimmed by circumstance.
You are not Polaris, my guiding star
nor Cygnus, my precious swan
nor my Deneb or Antares, red with passion
nor my Venus as the Morning Star,
no, your Ascendant is another house
a million light years from me.
You are my Beta Librae, in truth,
but the name does not suit you,
so I shall whisper al-zubānā al-šamāliyy
when I look upon your patch of sky
and remember when celestial rotation
nearly had us in conjunction…
but wheels turn as wheels will
and set you a light among the dim.