无论她是谁，她都能指挥我的心和我;她躺在那里，被人的眼睛锁在命运的荫叶里，直到成熟的命运诞生，把她美丽的脚步教给我们的大地;直到那神圣的意念登上水晶肉身的圣坛，闪耀光芒:与她相会，我的愿望，向她倾诉我的祝福，愿你称她为我缺席的吻。我祝愿她美丽，她的美丽不全是由于华丽的轮胎或闪亮的鞋带;有些东西比塔夫绸或薄纱能，或猖獗的羽毛，或丰富的扇子;比商店的战利品，蚕的辛劳，买来的腮红，做作的微笑都要珍贵。一张靠自己的美容用品最美丽的脸，只有她才能赞美其他的东西;一张由大自然洁白的手所创造的脸。青春和鲜血用真理之笔在脸颊上写下读者甜蜜的感受。他的面颊长得比晨曦的玫瑰还多，他的生命不欠任何盒子。恋人的双唇，在那里可以整天接吻，却什么也带不走。 Looks that oppress Their richest tires, but dress And clothe their simplest nakedness. Eyes, that displaces The neighbour diamond, and outfaces That sunshine by their own sweet graces. Tresses, that wear Jewels, but to declare How much themselves more precious are; Whose native ray Can tame the wanton day Of gems that in their bright shades play. Each ruby there, Or pearl that dare appear, Be its own blush, be its own tear. A well-tamed heart, For whose more noble smart Love may be long choosing a dart. Eyes, that bestow Full quivers on Love's bow, Yet pay less arrows than they owe. Smiles, that can warm The blood, yet teach a charm, That chastity shall take no harm. Blushes, that bin The burnish of no sin, Nor flames of aught too hot within. Joyes, that confess Virtue their mistress, And have no other head to dress. Fears, fond and flight As the coy bride's when night First does the longing lover right. Tears, quickly fled And vain as those are shed For a dying maidenhead. Days, that need borrow No part of their good morrow From a forspent night of sorrow. Days, that, in spite Of darkness, by the light Of a clear mind are day all night. Nights, sweet as they, Made short by lovers' play, Yet long by th' absence of the day. Life, that dares send A challenge to its end, And when it comes say Welcome Friend. Sydneian showers Of sweet discourse, whose powers Can crown old winter's head with flowers. Soft silken hours, Open suns, shady bowers 'Bove all; nothing within that lours. Whate'er delight Can make day's forehead bright, Or give down to the wings of night. In her whole frame Have nature all the name, Art and ornament the shame. Her flattery Picture and poesy, Her counsel her own virtue be. I wish her store Of worth may leave her poor Of wishes; and I wish—no more. Now, if Time knows That Her, whose radiant brows Weave them a garland of my vows; Her, whose just bays My future hopes can raise, A trophy to her present praise; Her, that dares be What these lines wish to see: I seek no further, it is she. 'Tis she, and here Lo! I unclothe and clear My wishes' cloudy character. May she enjoy it, Whose merit dare apply it, But modesty dares still deny it! Such worth as this is Shall fix my flying wishes, And determine them to kisses. Let her full glory, My fancies, fly before ye; Be ye my fictions, but her story.