Thursday, 11 August 2016

You, You only, exist.
We pass away, till at last,
our passing is so immense
that You arise: beautiful moment,
in all Your suddenness,
arising in love, or enchanted
in the contraction of work.

To You I belong, however time may
wear me away. From You to You
I go commanded. In between
the garland is hanging in chance; but if You
take it up and up and up: look:
all becomes a festival!

Rainer Maria Rilke

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