looking into eyes we say "miraculous"

I with quietness at evening
(and as if in snowdrifts)
know this: you are in the Land
and so--the breadth in the snows
and the shadow among them is such
(soul like repose of the field)
as looking into eyes we say "miraculous"
and sliding over itself
(and even more quietly)
as in open happiness

[Gennady Aygi {1934-2006} 'After the Blizzards' from Field-Russia]