When you are old and grey and fall 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 shadow deep;


How many loved your moments of glad grace,


And loved your beauty with love flase 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.


By William Butler Yeats


當你老了，頭髮白了，睡意昏沉；


在爐邊打盹，請取下這本書，


請緩緩閱讀，如夢一樣回想


你那溫柔而深邃的眼神；


多少人真心或假意地愛過你的美麗，


但只有一個人愛著你純潔的靈魂，


愛你韶華逝去後傷感的皺紋，


當你佝僂著在灼熱的爐柵旁，


難過地在訴說著愛情的消逝，


你可知道愛情就在頭頂的山上，


也隱藏在繁星的國度裡。


W.B.葉慈