Yesterday

Yesterday when I was young,

The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue,

I teased at life as if it were a foolish game,

The way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame;

The thousand dreams I dreamed,

The splendid things I planned I always built, alas,

on weak and shifting sand;

I lived by night and shunned the naked light of day

And only now I see how the years ran away.

YesterdayWhen I was young,

So many drinking songs were waiting to be sung,

So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me

And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see,

I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out,

I never stopped to think what life was all about

And every conversation I can now recall concerned itself with me,

me and nothing else at all.

Yesterday the moon was blue,

and every crazy day brought something new to do,

I used my magic age as if it were a wand,

and never saw the waste and emptiness beyond;

The game of love I played with arrogance and pride

and every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died;

The friends I made all seemed somehow to drift away

And only I am left on stage to end the play.

There are so many songs in me that won't be sung,

I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue,

The time has come for me to pay

for Yesterday When I was young
Young, young...

Charles Aznavour

Pintura: Waterhouse
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