Make I, paint I the beautiful eyes
Of yours, my love,
The retina, the cornea,
The eyeballs,
The eyelashes, the eyelids,
The lenses and the reflection,
The eyesight falling upon!
But why are the tears into the eyes
Of yours, my love,
Do you forbid me to sketch an paint them?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem