Oh, lovely one,
thy eyes are so black that - when in the evening
I lay down with my head onto thy lap -
it dawns on me that from thine eyes, their depths,
mysteriously springs the night and floods
the valleys and the mountains and the plains
shrouding the earth into a sea of darkness.
Of such a black are made thine eyes,
light of my life.
Translator: Vasile Andreica
see more poems written by: Lucian Blaga