Fedor Tyutchev

I love your dear eyes, my friend,  
With their play so bright and wondrous,
When you promptly rise them, and, 
Like with a lightning in the wildness,
Embrace at once the whole land.

But there's more fabulous attraction: 
The eyes directed to the floor
During the crazy osculation,  
And through the lashes, set before,
The dusk and gloomy flame of passion.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2000