RIMA XIV

You floated for a moment before my face,
and then the image of your eyes remained,
like a dark spot ringed by fire,
if one is blinded gazing at the sun.

Wherever I happen to fix my sight
I see your flaming eyes again;
but it is not you; it is only your gaze,
just your eyes, and nothing more.

I see them glowing in the corner
of my bedroom, disembodied and unreal;
when asleep I have the feeling they
are wide open, gazing upon me.

I know there are will-o’-the-wisps at night
that lead the traveler astray;
I feel myself drawn by your eyes;
but where they draw me, I do not know.