NARCISSUS

Listen to the voice that echoes to you, Narcissus.
This is the way the grass rustles as it lies down beneath our feet
(in the end this comparison is unconvincing, for
no one is able to value its sacrifice). Look
into the eyes of the one whose caress you so stubbornly escape:
into their depth, besides tenderness, longing, sadness,
you, silly boy, will see the most perfect
reflections of him whom you so boundlessly love.

NARCISSUS