Hungarian

I gazed at the noble image in her eyes'

All too sweet radiance,

Paying for it with my own eyes'

Cheerful gleam.

O God, why have you created,

To our misery and torment,

Such dark stars with such bright

Magical rays?

They have blinded me to all the wonders

Of this earth's every splendor;

All around me, wherever my gaze rests,

It is night.