PINTER, Harold

Death May Be Ageing

Death may be ageing

But he still has clout

But death disarms you

With his limpid light

And he's so crafty

That you don't know at all

Where he awaits you

To seduce your will

And to strip you naked

As you dress to kill

But death permits you

To arrange your hours

While he sucks the honey

From your lovely flowers