Sin ti, tengo los ojos en mi mente,
Y aquellos que me guían paso a paso
Sus funciones las cumplen sólo en parte;
Creen ver, mas en verdad son ciegos:
Pues forma alguna al corazón revelan
De ave, flor o bulto perceptible;
Ni a la mente objetos comunican
Ni en sí mismos retienen las visiones,
Pues vean trazo tosco o delicado,
Rostro dulce o deforme criatura,
La montaña o el mar, el día o la noche,
El cuervo o la paloma, ven tus rasgos.
De ti ebria, mi mente verdadera
Es fábrica de turbias falsedades.

Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
And that which governs me to go about
Doth part his function and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
For it no form delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch:
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,
The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,
The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
Incapable of more, replete with you,
My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue.