Sunday, December 24, 2006

The Fly


Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.


Am not I
A fly like thee?


Or art not thou
A man like me?


For I dance,
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.


If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;


Then am I
A happy fly.
If I live,
Or if I die.

William Blake

7 Comments:

Blogger anne said...

A simple but heartfelt series of pictures, a simple poem to go with them - thank you for posting!

Merry Christmas to you, Mikkel and Sara, and to your two boys.

Best wishes for an easy arrival of your baby, and for his good health. It is obvious he will be loved like no other creature on the planet!

7:26 am  
Anonymous børvis said...

all of the above!

gohd juhl ohg ghodt nhytt åhr

:)

6:57 pm  
Blogger Mikkel said...

Thank youse, thank youse, and merry, merry Christmas!!

Peace on Earth!

I am filled with a great love for all mankind and lots of duck. Let's not forget the duck. Quack, quack. It was super nice as always.

<3 <3 <3

1:04 am  
Blogger Susanne said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

7:13 pm  
Blogger Susanne said...

Yes, thank you, and just about NOW x-mas ends, thank you, thank you, I really appreciate.

7:13 pm  
Anonymous ion said...

Merry xmess guys!

Who gave the Borv too much H?

10:18 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love this fly poem!

10:44 pm  

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