My eyes already touch the sunny hill going far ahead of the road I have begun.So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;it has inner light, even from a distance-and charges us, even if we do not reach it,into something else, which, hardly sensing it,we already are; a gesture waves us on answering our own wave...but what we feel is the wind in our faces.
Translated by Robert Bly
Rainer Maria Rilke
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