Friday, March 11, 2011

a walk


.






My eyes already touch the sunny hill,
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has its inner light, even from a distance –



and changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are;
a gesture waves us on, answering our own wave …
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.









~ Rainer Maria Rilke
translated by Robert Bly



.

0 comments: