Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Sonnet

And it was almost a girl and came to be
Out of this single joy of song and lyre
And though her green veils shone forth radiantly
And make herself a bed inside my ear.

And slept there. And her sleep was everything :
The awesome trees, the distances I had felt
So deeply that I could touch them,
Meadows in spring :
All wonders that ever seized my heart

She slept the world. Singing god, how was that first sleep
So perfect that she had no desire ever to wake ?
See : She arose and slept.

Where is her death now ? Ah, will you discover
This theme before your song consumes itself ?
Where is she vanishing ?...A girl almost...

Rainer Maria Rilke