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

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Other poems of RILKE (126)

Comments (13)

This makes my life worth carrying about.
we know there is something more? besides rain.
Very spiritual and elevating
The Stephen Mitchell translation is the best.
..........still a beautiful poem, even with the wrong word usage...
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