As part of my on-going series of rewritten famous poems in English, this takes W.B. Yeats ‘When you are old’ as it’s starting point. As before, the first line and structure remains consistent, the rest is down to me…
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
When bed and rest seem sensible choices
And well-meant youth with their siren voices
Leave you heavy-lidded to count your sheep.
Don’t let welcome slumber pull you under;
Fight back the fog! Raise your head off that bed!
Your skin may sag, but when all is done and said,
Loose flesh still flaps and claps its own thunder.
Never go gentle; never be the first to leave.
If you must, take time; but please remember:
There’s still life in the coldest December
And all you need to live it to breathe.