I said to the stars

I said to the stars,

"She is your sister,

and your unveiled eyes

do not hold as much sweetness

as the damp spark

in hers that comes

from her heart."

I said to the rose,

"Borrow from her!

Her half-open mouth

and her brown hair

have such a sweet breath

that they easily excel

your sweetest perfumes."

I said to the breeze

that dies in the woods,

and to the water that sometimes

breaks and sings:

"Her voice is purer

than your murmuring.

Imitate her voice."

I said to the dawn:

"Your eastern sky

could be

a hundred times brighter

if you knew how to borrow

the sweet, tender brilliance

of her laughing brow!"