WHEN YOU ARE OLD.
When you are old and dim and loaded with rest,
What's more, gesturing by the fire, bring down this book,
What's more, gradually read, and dream of the delicate look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows profound;
What number of cherished your snapshots of happy effortlessness,
What's more, adored your magnificence with adoration false or genuine,
In any case, one man adored the traveler soul in you,
What's more, adored the distresses of your evolving face;
What's more, bowing down alongside the gleaming bars,
Mumble, a little unfortunately, how Love fled
Furthermore, paced upon the mountains overhead
Furthermore, shrouded his face in the midst of a horde of stars.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 12:30 PM UTC
WHEN YOU ARE OLD.
When you are old and dim and loaded with rest,
What's more, gesturing by the fire, bring down this book,
What's more, gradually read, and dream of the delicate look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows profound;
What number of cherished your snapshots of happy effortlessness,
What's more, adored your magnificence with adoration false or genuine,
In any case, one man adored the traveler soul in you,
What's more, adored the distresses of your evolving face;
What's more, bowing down alongside the gleaming bars,
Mumble, a little unfortunately, how Love fled
Furthermore, paced upon the mountains overhead
Furthermore, shrouded his face in the midst of a horde of stars.
Request permission to use this poem