Your eyes are a morning garden of flowers overflowing with tenderness and softness. When I look at you, I wander aimlessly and endlessly.
All roads lead to your eyes, everything reminds me of your eyes, it seems I have no escape. I no longer see anything but your eyes, I no longer remember anything but your eyes, and I no longer want anything but your eyes.

How infatuated I am with your blue eyes, how imprisoned I am with your blue eyes, and how lost I am in your blue eyes.
I see nothing without seeing your eyes, I hear nothing without remembering your eyes, I wake up in the morning and breathe in the fragrance of your eyes, and no evening comes without me going mad with longing for your eyes.
Your eyes are my eternal illness from which I will never recover, I am certain of that.