I wouldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did -
What was it that he saw that made him so give up his heart
for something unattainable.
I wouldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did.
Perhaps it was the pool he so adored...well, if that be,
How then it did deceive him cruelly.
Poor, poor, sad boy; if he had but received real love,
instead of nothing but a miming mug,
I'm sure, that he would not have sought to waste,
So valuable a thing as love upon a flimsy face.
I couldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did,
When what I see when I look at my face
are blots, not seen when I stand in the shade,
But magnified now I move closer in.
But then he had no spots, no wringles too.
Still, even if mine was so smooth,
That I could fool a women's touch with it,
I do not think I could, like him, pine after my own image.