He’s an old man. Used up and bent,
Crippled by time and indulgence,
He slowly walks along the narrow street.
But when he goes inside his house to hide
The shambles of his old age, his mind turns
To the share in youth that still belongs to him.
His verse is now recited by young men.
His visions come before their lively eyes.
Their healthy sensual minds,
Their shapely taut bodies
Stir to his perception of the beautiful.
Trans. by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard