The Eyes

Those comely pupils set in faces like amulets of blackness and silver.
Those waters wandering between lids and lashes like lakes girdled with shores and poplar trees.
The eyes — do the eyes not astonish you?
Gray eyes with their dreams,
And blue eyes with their variety,
And honey-colored eyes with their sweetness,
And brown eyes with their charm,
And dark eyes with their alternations of strength and sweetness.

All eyes.
Those that remind you of the clearness of the sky,
And those in which the depth of the seas lies still,
And those that show you the desert wastes and their mirage,
And those that carry your fancy up into an ethereal kingdom that is all splendor..
And those in which pass clouds that flash lightning and shed rain,
And those from which your gaze turns away only to seek a beauty-mark on the cheek.
Narrow round eyes, and long almond eyes,
And those sunk deep in their sockets from so much pondering and scrutiny,
And those of wide glances and slow movements,
And those over which the upper lids float calmly, as flocks of white birds hover over the lakes of the North,
And those others of green flame, that twist their ray like a grappling-hook upon the heart and catch it fast; and others, and others, and others...

Eyes that feel,
And eyes that think,
And eyes that take pleasure,
And eyes that sing,
And those in which rancors and grudges have pitched their camp,
And those in whose clefts secrets have been driven deep.

All eyes, and all the secrets of eyes.
Those in which inspiration keeps a loving countenance,
And those over which the films of torpor have thickened,

And those whose blackness widens before the one they love and shrinks before the one they hate,

And those that never cease asking “Who are you?” — and the more you answer them, the more they question,

And those that decree in a glance: “You are my slave!”

And those that declare: “I have need of pain — is there no one among men who can torture me well?”

And those that say: “I have need of tyranny — where, then, is my victim?”

And those that smile and entreat,

And those that keep searching out your hidden things while saying: “Do you not know me?”

And those in whose waters every questioning and every attraction, every denial and every affirmation, follow one upon another.

The eyes, all eyes — do the eyes not astonish you?

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And you — what is the color of your eyes, and what is their meaning, and toward what point among the things seen, or beyond them, do they aim?

Rise and go to your mirror!

And look at your two magic talismans — have you ever studied them before today?

Gaze into the depth of their depths: you will make out the knowing self that watches the movements of mankind and moves with the turning of the spheres and of the ages.

In the depth of their depths you see every scene, and every face, and every thing.

And if you would know me — me, the unknown woman — gaze into your own pupils, and your sight will find me in spite of yourself.