I love your dear eyes, my friend,
With their play so bright and wondrous,
When you promptly rise them, and,
Like with a lightning in the wildness,
Embrace at once the whole land.
But there's more fabulous attraction:
The eyes directed to the floor
During the crazy osculation,
And through the lashes, set before,
The dusk and gloomy flame of passion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem