My eyes are troubled
Zdenko Antonín Václav Fibich
My eyes are troubled, my mouth is dumb,
you tell me to speak, and yet it remains so.
Your eyes are clear, your mouth is red,
and what you only wish is my command.
My hair is grey, my heart is wounded;
you are so young, and so healthy.
You bid me to speak, and make it so difficult.
I gaze on you, and I tremble.