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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424752" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Binge drinking grub in pub rues dreams run rare</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When you are young and blithe, brink full of fun, <br>binge drinking grub in pub rues dreams run rare.<br>Case quick disjointed joint. Soon rising sun<br>transforms both in and outright sight with glare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Teetering down by overflowing bar, <br>murmur, sadly slurring, how Love fled.<br>Glass clinking clown mask crowd clouds twinkling stars <br>as unseen, from the gutter, as mountains overhead</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Take a quick gander in mind's mirror too.<br>Shake out fair hair, where lusting hands would grope.<br>Make hay while sun shines, remember very few<br>shall beacon beckon, most unravelled rope<br>too soon unreel. Time's kriegspiel lightning flash<br>strikes home as Charon charges one-way fee<br>for memories few hold. Bough breaks. Vows trash<br>consigned by brash newcomers seeking key. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In some sum total of recorded time<br>ryhmed second servings swerve to third or fourth, <br>from sublime to ridiculous pantomime<br>thoughts surge urge merge, submerge, flow forth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Carpe Diem! Grace swallowed by death's maws, <br>which hollow eyed leaves rich dreams wrinkle lined<br>behind bluff laughs, fnds pilgrims with bed sores, <br>as wander, lust, and wonder all unwind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who'll care a tinker's curse in fifty years<br>or even ten, when mirror's glass distorts<br>the image one once shone, swift wan, with tears, <br>crow fingered cares will linger mid waste's warts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Most love lies superficial, fancy phrase, <br>for starlets eclipsed before tomorrow's press, <br>stale story told, bold head lines lost. Pain, praise<br>vain, Janus mortal mask shred. Nonetheless<br>perhaps some karmic churn recycling dust<br>will recreate Eve, Adam, and Isolde<br>shall some fresh Tristan kiss, and vow 'We must <br>elope! ' Perhaps next incarnation, bolder, <br>may banish fears that Yeats and Ronsard shared<br>across arched centuries of mortal plight.<br>Could spruced up mutant download pre-prepared<br>software, shed books, good looks, spread wings for flight...? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(10 June 2010) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written in haste to be stirred with egg heads and taken with a pinch of saltAfter William Butler Yeats When You are Old, itself after Pierre Ronsard Quand vous serez vielle When you are old</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When you are old and grey and full of sleep, <br>And nodding by the fire, take down this book, <br>And slowly read, and dream of the soft look<br>Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">How many loved your moments of glad grace, <br>And loved your beauty with love false or true, <br>But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you, <br>And loved the sorrows of your changing face; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And bending down beside the glowing bars, <br>Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled<br>And paced upon the mountains overhead<br>And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. <br>William Butler Yeats</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jonathan+Robin">Jonathan Robin</a><div class=q>
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binge drinking grub in pub rues dreams run rare.
Case quick disjointed joint. Soon rising sun
transforms both in and outright sight with glare.

Teetering down by overflowing bar, 
murmur, sadly s..."></div>
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