Almanac: Yeats on old age
There's not a woman turns her face Upon a broken tree, And yet the beauties that I loved Are in my memory; I spit into the face of Time That has transfigured me. William Butler Yeats, "The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner"
There's not a woman turns her face Upon a broken tree, And yet the beauties that I loved Are in my memory; I spit into the face of Time That has transfigured me. William Butler Yeats, "The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner"