(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926 / Prague / Czech Republic)

A Walk

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

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Other poems of RILKE (126)

Comments (23)

in the 5th line, shouldn't the word be changes rather than charges?
Nice poem...I enjoyed it....a great poem...........10+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Mechanical reading without passions.
I love to teach this poem
This inner light charges them into something else.
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