2009-05-31
~ hopes ~
One rose alone is all roses
and this one: irreplaceable,
perfect, the supple term
surrounded by the text of things.
How, without her and her
intermittent and continual springing forth,
could we ever express
what were our hopes.
~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~
1 comment:
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.
~ William Butler Yeats ~
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