a debt to yeats

after reading yeats’ poem and learning about his inspiration, his words inspired me. our lives are made up of moments, some that last only for a short time, and some that string themselves together like a lighted garland. bright and sparkly, or ragged and dark. most of the time though as much as we try to keep them bright, they end up a little tarnished at the ends.
so, here’s my poem and the original –

some people stay with you

only in those moments,
stolen, dark and quiet.
(listen, can you hear the frogs?)

with borrowed words to
sing your heart to sleep,

your skeptic remained awake,

and knowing that,
you listened anyway.

When You are Old
w.b. yeats

When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

watercolor and pencil on watercolor paper.


This entry was published on December 5, 2011 at 4:12 pm. It’s filed under artwork and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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