Irsk poesi

Det er ikkje ofte eg les engelske dikt, men i dag kom eg over eit som er skrive av William Butler Yeats. Det heiter "He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven":



Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.