Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen; Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.

He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness i…

Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.

Each strand of her hair Is really insect eyes And each hole in her tongue Is always occupied By the milk of the sun

Some asked how pearls did grow, and where? Then spoke I to my girl To part her lips, and showed them there The quarelets of pearl.

Yr wylan deg ar lanw dioer Unlliw ag eiry neu wenlloer, Dilwch yw dy degwch di, Darn fel haul, dyrnfol, heli.