English poem
Xxxiv
by Vítězslav Hálek (1835–1874)
Those stars, those fair wee little stars, The heavens’ blue dome lighting, They look to me down with sweet eyes, Me up to them inviting.
Oh no! ye fair wee little stars; You love that wheel of heaven, While I prefer to stay down here Where I find all I’ve craven.
You don’t know, fair wee little stars, And think not what you’re missing; We have here heaven on the earth In sweet, delightful kissing.