It would be good to give much thought, before
you try to find words for something so lost,for those long childhood afternoons you knew
that 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 us
except 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 shepherd
and as overburdened by vast distances,and summoned and stirred as from far away,
and slowly, like a long new thread,introduced into that picture-sequence
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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