Ille mi par esse deo videtur


that man’s an equal of the gods,
it seems to me,
more fortunate, even though it be ill luck
to say it, than the gods,
just to sit across from you
and see you, hear you,
looking, listening,
all day long,
with your sweet laughter
robbing me of my senses:
for when I look at you
loses meaning, my tongue is stilled,
along my limbs a slender flame
overflows, the sound at my ears
is my ringing pulse, my eyes are plunged
from light to night.