The Promises of a Face

I love your elliptical eyebrows, my pale beauty, From which darkness seems to flow; Although so black, your eyes suggest to me Thoughts in no way funereal. Your eyes, in harmony with your black hair, With your buoyant mane, Your swooning eyes now tell me: "If you wish, O lover of the plastic muse, To follow the hope we have excited in you, And all the fancies you profess, You will be able to prove our truthfulness From the navel to the buttocks; You will find at the tips of two heavy breasts Two slack bronze medallions, And under a smooth belly, soft as velvet, Swarthy as the skin of a Buddhist, A rich fleece, which truly is the sister Of this huge head of hair, Compliant and curly, its thickness equals Black night, night without stars!" Translated by - Geoffrey Wagner