Old Cupid Poem by David Wood
Old Cupid
As each century slowly passes
Cupid's grown old, and now needs glasses
His arrows are no longer straight
And all love is left to its fate.
He no longer has the strength to fire
His arrows for love's desire
They all miss their mark
And love is left floundering in the dark.
What a sad tale to tell
For someone who rings my bell
Has no idea or notion
That love is such a sweet potion.
Marvelous poem! Ah! To be wounded by that poisoned arrow, though Cupid may be old, they say grey haired lions as are wily as they are bold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 10:12:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I thought an old monkey never forgets how to climb trees. I agree with Kostas, needs a good retirement plan.5**