I hope everyone has some good books planned for the weekend.
Yesterday I went to Cosford Royal Air Force Museum, I do enjoy looking at all the planes through history and I remembered this poem so thought I would share it with you all.
This weeks poem is by W.B. Yeats. Yeats wrote this poem in 1918 towards the end of the Great War.
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 man, 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.
W. B. Yeats