YESTERDAY WHEN I WAS YOUNG Writers Charles
Aznavour, Herbert Kretzmer 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 the day and only now I
see how the years ran away. Yesterday when 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
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about and every conversation I can now recall
concerned itself with 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.