Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461071" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>that damn Cupid</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">...who or which is the main topic of this site<br>in any season, let alone this one in the Northern hemisphere, <br>as the hormones stir a young man's fancy<br>and an old man's mind...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's difficult I find, being a poet, and a scientist by training -<br>you want finality in the experimental results<br>but you love the constant mystery and beauty of the world, <br>never quite reached, never quite expressed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Take this Cupid. Not the actual one, <br>but the head of Eros, Venus' very active young assistant<br>obviously under general orders<br>but with a very free remit under his blindfold -<br>or so it seems to us who don't get to see<br>the universal script if such there be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He's one of the few 'archaic' treasures of Greek art<br>neatly plundered for the British Museum<br>in circumstances not to be enquired into -<br>'saved for civilisation' would be the spin -<br>but a winged messenger to this house<br>in no small way.<br>Which brings the whole matter of the non-material<br>into question. And which is what some scientists<br>find a challenge, others try hard to deny with cold facts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To get to the point. The beloved point.<br>A reproduction of this little chap <br>in a mixture of polysomething and marble dust<br>sits on the table by the window here, <br>I'm looking at it now. Why do I know<br>that it's not just anyone's baby, baby, <br>but Eros himself? (Venus, note, is a mature woman, <br>Cupid just an innocent (ha!) child...) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The problem, O scientists, <br>the blessing, O poets, <br>is that his expression, his intention dammit, <br>is never the same two seconds together; <br>and, always two seconds ahead of what<br>I'm thinking now he's up to...<br>he's always up to something<br>and he knows I know it...<br>and don't exactly know what<br>and I'm two seconds after him, all the time...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For instance, right now<br>before I wrote this, I thought it would be good<br>to give him a wipe.<br>He submitted to it with the closed eyes of a child<br>just old enough to submit to having his face wiped<br>without screwing up his face into a performance; <br>a beautiful, gentle submission <br>(for once; first time I've seen him look like this) : <br>now already, he's up to something - the corner of his mouth<br>on one side has a mischievous little thought (or maybe not so little) <br>playing around it; while his eyes are resting within himself<br>in a meditation on pure wisdom, it seems</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(just a second, let me check on him, <br>you can't leave him for a moment) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">aha! that's his game - the sculptor<br>who trapped him, or thought he'd trapped him -<br>no - was trapped by him! has seen two sides to his face: <br>the left side would pass for a meditating Buddha, almost; <br>almost blind, unknowing, unjudging of all worldly actions; <br>the right side has an up-to-something muscle-pull <br>at the corner of the mouth and cheek and eye<br>which gives that side of his face a look of active goodwill; <br>put the two sides together, and ha! it looks like mischief; <br>but more like the divine mischief of Krishna <br>sporting with his cowgirls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is all this the moving theatre of my fantasising mind? <br>Left and right lobes of the brain in see-saw mode? <br>I think not. Ikons are famously said to play this game<br>with the devotee; outer portrayal drawing out one's inner truth; <br>and here's this Cupid, more alive than I am, I suspect...<br>allowing me, who have acquired him/been acquired by him, <br>to watch him as he makes the whole world go round<br>and conquers all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But as to warning you in advance<br>what he's up to with your erotic stirrings this fine Spring morning, <br>all I can tell you is<br>he's always on duty; always hatching some new divine mischief; <br>and I'm always two seconds late in catching his newest<br>cast<br>of mind..</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461071" data-title="That damn Cupid de Michael Shepherd" data-description="...who or which is the main topic of this site
in any season, let alone this one in the Northern hemisphere, 
as the hormones stir a young man's fancy
and an old man's mind...

It's difficult I find, being a poet, and a scientist by training -
you..."></div>
</div>
</div>