by Karin Boye

You are one of my dreams -
good if no one wakes me! -
one of my beautiful candles,
that darkness not cover me.
Fighter for goals so pale,
ice and glass and sharpened steel!
The brilliant day
I scarce know if the dreams will bear.

There is solace in the dream's perfumes,
cool, scarcely perceptible.
Yet I would give them all away
for the earthly real.
Warmth of dear beautiful hands...
I want to love, not fantasize.
Life's ripeness
the dream never will imitate.