He wishes for the cloths of heaven
William Butler Yeats
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with gold 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.
Question: What is your favorite poem? You know something that punches your heart?
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2 comments:
I find poetry difficult. My brain doesn't work in the way of expressing something so succinctly and perfectly that there is no need for any further words. I admire it but can't really think that way. So I don't have a favourite poem. But I do enjoy beautiful, poetic language in prose. The opening passages of God of Small Things (Arundhati Roy) spring to mind but there are many other beautiful passages that draw me in.
Excerpt from Give all to love, by Walt Whitman:
Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Though her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive;
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
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