Childhood
It would be good to give much thought, beforeyou try to find words for something so lost,for those long childhood afternoons you knewthat vanished so completely —and why?
We're still reminded—: sometimes by a rain,but we can no longer say what it means;life was never again so filled with meeting,with reunion and with passing onas back then, when nothing happened to usexcept what happens to things and creatures:we lived their world as something human,and became filled to the brim with figures.
And became as lonely as a sheperdand as overburdened by vast distances,and summoned and stirred as from far away,and slowly, like a long new thread,introduced into that picture-sequencewhere now having to go on bewilders us.
Rainer Maria Rilke
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We cannot know his legendary headwith eyes like ripening fruit And yet his torsois still suffused with brilliance from inside,like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,gleams in all its power Otherwisethe curved breast could not ...
Dedication To M
Swing of the heart O firmly hung, fastened on whatinvisible branch Who, who gave you the push,that you swung with me into the leaves How near I was to the exquisite fruits
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It is life in slow motion,it's the heart in reverse,it's a hope-and-a-half:too much and too little at once It's a train that suddenlystops with no station around,and we can hear the cricket,and, leaning out the carriagedoor, we vainly contemp...
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