That couple on the sofa! Do not stare.
They're still in love, as anyone can see.
Her hair is silver, his is grey and spare.
They sit together, touching knee to knee.
The brightest are the flowers of the spring
that come upon the margins of the snow
when winter winds begin to lose their sting
and icy fingers melt and let them go.
But Aphrodite when she's asked to choose,
to make a potion for a lover's spell,
picks Autumn flowers, rich in rounded hues,
in ripened stimulants and carnal smell.
Like flowers of the autumn, feeding bees,
old couple on the sofa: linger please.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem