Poetry

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

Had I 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 (1865 - 1939)

One of my favourite english written poem, the french translation of the last three verses is :

Mais tu sais, je suis pauvre et je n'ai que mes rêves;
Sous tes pas j'ai répandu mes rêves;
Marche doucement car tu marches sur mes rêves.