Minnermos
The Pleasure of Sex
What possible pleasure
Without the treasure
Of sex?
Kill me
When that no longer thrills me:
Stolen kisses,
Gifts of sweetness,
Bed.
It's now that life is blooming,
Now that it must be grabbed.
Painful old age is beginning to creep
Up on you, making you ugly and weak.
Mean worries will rub at your minds,
And the sun on your eyes will no longer bring you delight.
Boys will dislike you,
Girls despise you.
Old age is a god's act of spite.
Translated by Leo Aylen
Page(s) 227
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