When You Are Old by WB 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.
This is one of the best candids I have seen on your site. I love the look, and I hope I run into whoever you have in Florence when I am there in 3 weeks. I will be the American running around in workwear.
Great shot mate. I'm a huge fan, your blog made me want to get dressed up again.
By the way, the jacket is by Denham the Jeanmaker out of Amsterdam, lovely stuff, worth checking them out online. They have a whole garment history section on their website that is amazing and generously all there to view.
Keep roaming the streets and finding moments of beauty.
A great black and white photo. He doesn't look like he belongs in sophisticated Florence, rather he looks more like a Southern Italian fisherman. The textures, including the cigar, are great especially the spots on the shoulder.