RIMA XXXIV

She walks quietly and her movements are
            silent harmony;
her steps are heard, and they resemble
the rhythmic cadence of a glorious hymn.

She partly opens her eyes, those eyes
            as bright as day;
and all that heaven and earth encloses
burns with a new light in her eyes.

She laughs, and her laughter sounds
            like running water;
She cries, and each tear is a poem
            of infinite tenderness.

She has the light, the aroma
            the warmth and the shape;
her figure, the birth place of desires,
her language, an eternal source of poetry.

She seems stupid? Bah! While she is silent,
            she hides an obscure enigma;
what she keeps silent, in my opinion, is worth
more than what anyone else says.