Mirrors! - Who has ever known you,
Described you? Entered into your very
Being? Holes which appear in time, are filled-in,
Like clear pores of a sieve.

You, squanderers of empty drawing-rooms,
In the dusk broad as the great forests ...
And when the lustre shoots like a stag’s antlers
Down through ways untrodden inside you.

Sometimes you engulf paintings, -
Are stuffed with them, -
Then some are timorously despatched, go past.

But the most beautiful shall remain within you,
Held there till pure Narcissus is unbound and penetrates
Down to a visage comprised in you.