you try to find words for something so lost,
that vanished so completely --and why?
but we can no longer say what it means;
life was never again so filled with meeting,
with reunion and with passing on
except what happens to things and creatures:
and became filled to the brim with figures.
and as overburdened by vast distances,
and slowly, like a long new thread,
where now having to go on bewilders us.
"Childhood" by Rainier Maria Rilke
1 comment:
Rilke is wonderful. Thank you for sharing a great poem of life lived fully when you know who you are.
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