A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty
Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.
Miranda in Miranda's sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.
Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.
Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adored you.
Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What's a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?
Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then--
How old is Spring, Miranda?
Ogden Nash's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty by Ogden Nash )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Revolution Brings Salvation, Ruma Chaudhuri
- Unity (Haiku), Diwakar Pokhriyal
- A Visit to the Unique Place, rohan bendre
- Yes, Mother Nature Teaches Bards..., Dr John Celes
- Tonic Pain, Soumita Sarkar Ray
- In the Absence of Light, F. J. Thomas
- Give me a drink, Diana Rosser
- White Power, F. J. Thomas
- Sweet Dreams, Sambanath Denis
- My unjust God, Nalini Chaturvedi