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

W.B. Yeats



как красиво... *вздыхает* и как жизненно
"я простираю грезы под ноги тебе... ступай легко, мои ты топчешь грезы"