'No Women Bring Flowers' by David Hart
Old alas, with hair scarce head
To take a shave, a gargantuan dread
Ago the years yielded a different tread
Lithesome ladies brought smiles and flowers
Attired in curtsies and fine threads
Speaking in melliflous tones
No longer such delight for this old crone
No one calls and visits pall
Slowly come the letters or not at all
Sore bones and an aching soul
Fading away in a cramped hovel hole
No longer carrying c-notes in a fat role
david hart 2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem