The Eyes of Bertha

You may hold in scorn eyes above all famous,

Fair eyes of my child, whence filters and takes flight

I know not what of goodness, of sweetness like the Night!

Fair eyes, pour upon me your most charming shades!

Great eyes of my child, arcana idolized,

You resemble very much those grottos full of magic

Where, behind the heap of shadows all lethargic,

Vaguely sparkle hence treasures unrecognized!

My child has such eyes dark, deep and vast,

As yourself, Night immense, as yourself all lighted!

Their fires are those thoughts of Love, to Faith united,

That twinkle most profoundly, voluptuous and chaste.

Charles Baudelaire