..and now for a real poet.

[subtract]

No one lives his lifeDisguised since childhood

Comments

[anonymous]

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

[grand_illusion]

this poem reminds me of the end of CITIZEN KANE

[subtract]

So do I. The other night I actually had the thought that Rilke might be my 'soulmate' and how apt that would be. (I'm probably just going crazy from lack of sleep).