They say to me, your eyes, clear as crystal:

They ask me— thy crystalline eyes, so acute,

"For you, bizarre lover, what is my merit then?"

"Odd lover why am I to thee so dear?"

— Be charming and be still! My heart, which all things irk,

Be sweet and keep silent, my heart, which is sear,

Except the candor of the animals of old,

For all, save the rude and untutored brute,

Does not wish to reveal its black secret to you,

Is loth its infernal depths to reveal,

Whose lulling hands invite me to long sleep,

And its dissolute motto engraven with fire,

Nor its somber legend written with flame.

Oh charmer! whose arms endless slumber inspire!

I hate passion; intelligence makes me suffer!

I abominate passion and wit makes me ill.

Let us love each other sweetly. Tenebrous Love,

So let us love gently. Within his retreat,

Ambushed in his shelter, stretches his fatal bow.

Foreboding, Love seeks for his arrows a prey,

I know all the weapons of his old arsenal:

I know all the arms of his battle array.

Crime, horror, and madness! — pale marguerite!

Delirium and loathing O pale Marguerite!

Are you not, like me, an autumnal sun,

Like me, art thou not an autumnal ray,

O my Marguerite, so white and so cold?

Alas my so white, my so cold Marguerite