Timo Kinnunen
Särkiniementie 16 A 41
70700
Kuopio
Finland
Updated on the 8th November in 2016
Lyrics:
Come, let me sing into your
ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin
gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as
foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a
silver bag.
Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter
if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children
that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble
flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver
bag.
I thought it out this very day.
Noon upon the clock,
A
man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and
sing until he drop,
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in
a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.
W.B. Yeats