One day I want to become a writer, and artist, an editor. I have traveled so much with my parents and my brothers that they are my closest friends and sometimes I wonder if I can actually say I come from any certain country. I love food so much that I think of countries according to the dishes they serve. And also, I am sharing my life with you.

Friday, November 11, 2011

When You Are Old

Here's a beautiful poem that my brother told me about. So wonderful.

When You Are Old 
by Wiliam Butler 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 among the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

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