Nymph with morning glory flowers by Jules Joseph Lefebvre


When her form filled my eyes,

I knew to whom I would give my heart,

For in her I know true beauty lies,

And to her I felt my soul would depart.


Wounded I am by an arrow’s tip,

That Venus and Cupid has shot at me.

Fallen I have to love’s fine wit,

Fated no longer to be wild and free.


Eyes akin to deep pools of water,

Staring far and away at a mountain’s peak,

Eyes that reflect the moon’s power,

And betrays nothing for the mind to seek.


White hands were upon her chest,

While standing against the hissing wind.

Flaxen hair blown from her breast,

Revealing her to be slender and slim.


Suddenly her eyes close in sorrow,

And in the moonlight I saw a crystal tear.

I felt her sadness in my bone marrow,

Before everything became terribly clear.


She cries for her own beauty,

That exists only in solemn contrast,

To the world and all that is ugly,

She is but an unfortunate outcast.


Thus I decided before I perish,

That in the name of Eros I shall pick,

In sincerity to love and to cherish,

The rose that abides on the highest peak.


So in boldness and courage I went,

To where she stood beside a frozen lake,

In fair vanity I took her hand,

And kissed it all for love’s blind sake.


She looked towards me with kindness,

A gaze filled with common understanding.

Her beauty drove my inner madness,

As my soul was naked, stripped from within.


In truth her perfection is what I need,

While my imperfection makes her complete.

~ESZ, James



3 Responses to “Beauty”
  1. S. says:

    A beautiful tribute to a very beautiful piece of art.

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