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God speaks to each of us before we are,
Before he's formed us — then, in cloudy speech,
But only then, he speaks these words to each
And silently walks with us from the dark:
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Driven by your senses, dare
To the edge of longing. Grow
Like a fire's shadowcasting glare
Behind assembled things, so you can spread
Their shapes on me as clothes.
Don't leave me bare.
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Let it all happen to you: beauty and dread.
Simply go — no feeling is too much —
And only this way can we stay in touch.
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Near here is the land
That they call Life.
You'll know when you arrive
By how real it is.
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Give me your hand.
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~ Rainer Maria Rilke
(Translation by Leonard Cottrell)
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