You are as distant as the last morning star,
which flees before dawn sets on her wings.
And as ephemeral as a fresh dew drop
resting on a tiny blade of grass, which slips
well before the golden sun
has had a chance to look at her.
Your eyes do seem like endless oceans,
whose emarald depths I drink deep;
and refreshed and rested
my heart finds comfort.
And your voice like the song of the sea,
lulls me further into enchantment.
Your touch like velvet
plays havoc with my mind.
Your sight to behold
is better than Paradise,
your gaze: more uplifting than wine.
Your beauty is dream-like
subtle and changing
which cannot be named
or otherwise stated.
What cunning do you hide,
what spells do you chant ?
My mind cant fathom,
bewitched and numb,
by wonder and love:
I must follow like a moth to fire:
Death is more aggreeable than distance.