XVII
Josef Štýbr translation
When I gaze at Thee, darling mine— Thou art a dove—though sweeter— Delightful, playful, gentle, tame, When her mate comes to meet her. And I can scarcely gaze enough At Thine eyes and cheeks’ blossom— Thine eyes are but two dark blue gates To Thy deep charming bosom. And I can scarcely gaze enough At Thy sweet face reflection— Through it Thy whole heart speaks to me And soul without deception. When I gaze at Thee, darling mine— O manna’s sweet dispenser!— Are not those the same lips, indeed, That gave me “yes” for answer?