TATITERA — Она

There is something in her more beautiful than beauty, That speaks not to the senses — to the soul; There is something in her more sovereign over the heart Than earthly love and earthly charm.

Like a sweet memory to the soul, Like the dear light of your native star, Some enchantment draws you To her feet and under her protection.

When you are with her, of your unclear dream She is the unclear mistress: You do not think, — and only with her fair Presence is your soul filled.

If you wander the road home, Parted from her, — into your empty corner, You are full of a boundless dream, You are full of a mysterious longing.