WITHOUT FACE
You stand in the shadows. The amber tendrils of your hair are embraced by the balmy night. The ashing hills of Hasad with rising and sinking sighs are beckoned by the gentle evening breeze-whisper! Thy bronze arms answer my touch With gentle, fragile tremors, swan-embraces! Even now, in sultry, vacuumless warmth, Each other's will is strained against us: with pearls of truth our sweating bodies are sponges holding island heat for eternity!
From thy night-black eyes eternal bliss, and joy still shines and shines like heavenly harmony. Salvation fills the wells of my troubled soul! Around thee the motionless, slumbering landscape stretches: nowhere. Your supple and supple body shines, boils, and panting like a tamed fisherman's barge on the foaming waves of a calm sea! O, how far thou wast, and as in my past the pictures come, Thou art farther and farther away!
Thou canst no longer embrace me. Nor cupping good-night kisses on my blushing cheeks You can only love me from afar If I ever meant anything to you at all! You look through me as through the annihilating mist, - far away to the ever-memorial, immortal field of stars, where only my secret, unearthly image wanders. From the flood of thy almighty tears A palace of unselfish compassion and pity rises: I know not where we have gone wrong!
Have we been at fault, or are we only the adolescents of our childhood? I only know that I could look again into your fire-eyed stars, You could feel without words how much I need you, - Your face's look sighs like a deep black shell, And now no longer helps the naughty grasshopper of your legs To my bouquet of compliments, - If I drop for you a single wrong, forgettable rhyme! Thy chalk-white face, with a little blushing fierceness, hath no harm? a yellow moonlight with a tiger's eye, with a mysterious yellow moonlight, is enthroned before my window: Why couldn't I forget you for ever?! And put thee out of my dull mind?
For thine unworthy truth is thine, and thou hast sealed with thy oath a false and illusory love: Have thy unruly, scorching kisses meant any more to thy lord? I would thy pardon's merciful siren tones would I could hear!