Se fossem meus os bordados,
forjados no paraíso,
que tecem a ouro e prata,
na noite escura, no dia claro,
na hora mágica,
todos os azuis do mundo,
a teus pés os lançaria:
Mas sendo eu pobre
nada mais tenho que os sonhos,
que a teus pés hoje estendo;
Pisa-os devagarinho,
sao meus sonhos são teu caminho
W. B. Yeats
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.
W. B. Yeats