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a very old poem

Her green eyes

Like the fragrance of a distant woodland lake
evergreen in peacefulness and warmth of mysticism
her eyes intrigue me with their blessed purity
in perfect freedom where she rests
so far beyond all things that can't be loved;
for beauty loves and can but smile
wherefore she is but beauty,
and she can only love in freedom and in peace.
That is the meaning of her seagreen eyes:
she can but love, and whatever she may love
is turned by magic into her own virgin image:
a distant lake in the woodlands so far from time and space,
so holy in its isolation, and in the clumsy ignorance of man
of her existence so unutterably fortunate
and happy if not even beatific,
and in her motherliness the perfect restfulness and peace,
the deepest heart of universal harmony
and the inmost soul of love, herself its very essence.

Poetry by Christian Lanciai