I have come again for your sake.
As I walked on, I observed
the Corinthian vessels well;
they impressed me, of course,
with the grace of their shapes and their paintings.
I thought of the throbbing life
of that notorious city. Afterwards,
as though on purpose, I lingered in the halls
where the light seemed almost watery.
I don't know whether this is due
to the colour-tone of the walls,
the immobility of the exhibits,
or the glass of the showcases.
I lingered, therefore,
holding my anticipation of your presence
like a joy.

[...]

Wonderous youth,
unique moment, you are not only
the adolescent of perfect beauty,
of radiant youth,
that harmony in the form of the limbs' music
of him who keeps his posture and holds it
in natural strength and power,
like the stone or the plant
that exist both simple and perfect together;
hands spread out in ideal balance,
divine curvature,
indestructable innocence of caught time,
smiling face of incorruption,
heightening of our perishable position.

Reality and magic,
smooth surface of life,
convex and concave curves
from the impetuosity hidden within you,
guided and controlled.
Offering and acceptance of existence,
in movement and immobility both,
like the balancing of a regal bird.

You were born
before we were taught the meaning of sin.
You are the concession of the spirit
that quenches insatiable privation
and annihilates cupidity.
Though filled with longing, you remain ready to deprive yourself.
Every foreign disposition to your shape
glides away from you.
You seek the spirit's value,
yet it is you who proffer it, alive and serene body.

Frugal meeting with the absolute,
naked mystery,
form snatched from necessity,
you rise like the music of one sound,
divine sufficiency, created in human terms.

You were not tormented by that love
which is an uncertainty,
anguish and painful submission,
even though in your glance is held
the wonderous human melancholy,

for you are the work
of a man who loved his life
in a glory both arrogant and modest.