Um poema sobre o amor verdadeiro por um dos poetas da minha preferência, o irlandês William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full 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 shadows deep;

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.

William Butler Yeats