Classic Poem

Saphire sind die Augen dein

Sapphires are those eyes of yours,
None lovelier or braver;
Thrice happy is the lucky man
On whom they shine with favor.

Your heart is a warm diamond,
A light that never dwindles
Thrice happy is the lucky man
For whom that fire kindles

Twin rubies are those lips of yours,
A rich and radiant measure
Thrice happy is the lucky man
Who can possess this treasure.

Oh, could I know that lucky man,
And find that happy lover,
Nicely alone in some deep wood —
His luck would soon be over.