In my eyes he matches the gods, that man who sits there facing you—any man whatever—listening from closeby to the sweetness of your voice as you talk, thesweetness of your laughter: yes, that—I swear it— sets the heart to shaking inside my breast, since once I look at you for a moment,
I can'tspeak any longer,but my tongue breaks down, and then all at once asubtle fire races inside my skin, myeyes can't see a thing and a whirring whistle thrums at my hearing,cold sweat covers me and a trembling takes ahold of me all over:
I'm greener than the grass is and appear to myself to be littleshort of dying.
But all must be endured, since even a poor
