That face, painted by magic on this pond.
The skin so smooth, the hair suffused with light,
the eyes so deep: a beauty far beyond
all other faces. Entranced by delight
I call to him, but he does not reply,
merely repeating my words soundlessly
and yet, I see the longing in his eye;
all that I feel for him, he feels for me.
I’d love to kiss those cheeks, that neck, those ears,
those lips that move but have no power of speech
yet if I try to touch, he disappears –
so close, but somehow always out of reach.
How long have I gazed, rooted to this spot?
I know that I must leave – but I cannot.