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.