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| Jan Steen (1665) Sick Woman |
Noble doctor am I, with all my tools
Despite modern Modicine's system of rules
Stand stymied and puzzled beyond all belief
For I cannot determine the root her grief!
Stand stymied and puzzled beyond all belief
For I cannot determine the root her grief!
She suffers from pains and from a fever
Despite my assessment, I cannot relieve her!
A thorough exam; there’s nothing amiss
But her vigor continues on down the abyss!
Her countenance flushed; her pulse it runs quick
I know by these symptoms she surely is sick!
All day she just sighs; the appetite poor
Despite my best efforts, I can’t find the cure!
I am bound to an oath; I’ll continue to try
For if I cannot help her, she surely will die!
5 comments:
love will mess you up as much as many a disease...smiles.
Ah... quite the puzzle for the wise ol' doctor.
Poor gal.
Agree with Brian in that love can really mess you up...
Anna :o]
Love is always fatal, I'm afraid. And for the most part incurable.
Oh, yes. And there's nothing that can be done. Well crafted!
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