The colour of youth appears again
In moon and candle light so that fools may revel in it.
But when the wine has turned to headache,
Surely then the sun shining so bright will put it right.
Far better to love the beauty of the mind.
For though lips explore,
Their love cannot outlast love’s images.
Romantic thoughts and memories do not lie in the skin,
for what the romantic wind undresses is seldom wrinkled
when it makes a soul of the body.
