Wednesday, June 13, 2012
I nearly missed my favorite poet, W.B. Yeats' birthday (June 13, 1865), but as the night gets darker, I'll pull down my collected poetry and dip in.
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heaven's 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.
William Butler Yeats
You can listen to Anthony Hopkins read it:
And if you're a real Yeats aficionado, check out this site.