Being / O. O wandering spirit, most wandering of all! How snugly the others live in their heated poems and stay, content, in their narrow similes. Taking part. Only you move like the moon. And underneath brightens and darkens the nocturnal landscape, the holy, the terrified landscape, which you feel in departures. No one gave it away more sublimely, gave it back more fully to the universe, without any need to hold on. Thus for years that you no longer counted, holy, you played with infinite joy, as though it were not inside you, but lay, belonging to no one, all around on the gentle lawns of the earth, where the godlike children had left it. Ah, what the greatest have longed for; you built it, free of desire, stone upon stone, till it stood. And when it collapsed, even then you werent bewildered. - Rainer Maria Rilke | To Hölderlin
Posted on: Sun, 28 Sep 2014 19:53:49 +0000