Happy Birthday, SITA manja

WHEN YOU ARE OLD

by: William Butler Yeats


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.



*trit trut (sms beep)*

he replied:

I love your moments of glad grace, your beauty with love both false and true, that pilgrim soul in you, even the sorrows of your changing face.

in presence or absence, wholeheartedly or even just a speck of faith, however it may be, whatever dreams may come, when fate rears it's eternal face, I'd love you still.


thank you, laf! (pangkah,bulat,pangkah,bulat) hehehhe