The glory of the day was in her face,
The beauty of the night was in her eyes.
And over all her loveliness, the grace
Of Morning blushing in the early skies.
And in her voice, the calling of the dove;
Like music of a sweet, melodious part.
And in her smile, the breaking light of love;
And all the gentle virtues in her heart.
And now the glorious day, the beauteous night,
The birds that signal to their mates at dawn,
To my dull ears, to my tear-blinded sight
Are one with all the dead, since she is gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I don't use the word lovely a lot, but this poem deserves that word. And it illustrates the many kinds of attractiveness there are. And how blessed are we men, who find them in a woman. The next to last line should have ears instead of cars. I'll alert the PH folks on it. -GK