William Butler Yeats

(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner - Poem by William Butler Yeats

ALTHOUGH I shelter from the rain
Under a broken tree,
My chair was nearest to the fire
In every company
That talked of love or politics,
Ere Time transfigured me.
Though lads are making pikes again
For some conspiracy,
And crazy rascals rage their fill
At human tyranny,
My contemplations are of Time
That has transfigured me.
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.


Comments about The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner by William Butler Yeats

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: crazy, tree, memory, woman, rain, fire, time, love, women



Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2001



[Hata Bildir]