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An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
by W.B. Yeats

William Butler Yeats (June 13, 1865 – January 28, 1939) was an Irish poet, dramatist, mystic and civil servant. Yeats was one of the driving forces behind the Irish Literary Revival and was co-founder of the Abbey Theatre. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1923 for what the Nobel Committee described as "his always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation".
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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.

Your turn

Write a poem about flying. Send it to us.

Your texts

Flying

Start your flying,
And do not come back,
You were born to freedom.
Escape from your fears,
Escape from your tears,
Escape from your pain,
And do not come back again.

Eric Ramirez Rodriguez

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