An Irish Airman Foresees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My country is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan's poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight Drove to this tumult in the clouds; I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of breath, A waste of breath the years behind In balance with this life, this death. William Butler Yeats. The Wild Swans at Coole. - - - Un aviador irlandés prevé su muerte Yo sé que he de tropezar con mi destino en algún alto lugar de las nubes. No odio a quienes combato ni amo a los que defiendo. Mi tierra es la Cruz de Kiltartan, mis paisanos, los pobres de Kiltartan. Ningún fin posible podría perjudicarlos ni hacerlos más felice...
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