Archive for the ‘Old Man’ Tag

You Can Call Me Old Man, but . . .   1 comment

DON’T CALL ME SWEETIE!

When I’m old and weak

Don’t call me sweetie,

No ‘elderspeak’ for me.

You may think you’re being kind

But it’s not a good moment

When dignity is left behind.

— kenne
 

A Man’s a Man for a’ That   Leave a comment

Old Man — Image by kenne

A Man’s a Man for a’ That

Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that.
Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an’ a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man’s a Man for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that;
The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men for a’ that.

Ye see yon birkie ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that,
Tho’ hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
His ribband, star, an’ a’ that,
The man o’ independent mind,
He looks an’ laughs at a’ that.

A Prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that!
But an honest man’s aboon his might –
Guid faith, he mauna fa’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Their dignities, an’ a’ that,
The pith o’ Sense an’ pride o’ Worth
Are higher rank than a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a’ that,
That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth
Shall bear the gree an’ a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
It’s comin yet for a’ that,
That Man to Man the warld o’er
Shall brithers be for a’ that.

Robert Burns

There was only our bodies . . .   3 comments

“Body of an Old Man Sitting Under the Stars” — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“There was only our bodies, born to live and die on terms decided by the bodies
that had lived and died before us. If he could be said to have located
a philosophical niche for himself, that was it – he’d come upon it early and intuitively,
and however elemental, that was the whole of it.”

— from Everyman by Philip Roth

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