Um aviador irlandês...

AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH

I knouw that I shall my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that i fight do not hate,
Those that Iguard i do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My coutrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade my 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.

W.B.YEATS, The wild swans at coole (1919)