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.
R.M. Rilke
Translated by Robert Bly
(My note: Although I believe the translation and printing to be accurate,
the word "charges" seems to want to be "changes". Can't confirm either way.)
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