By RANIER MARIA RILKE |
Submitted by wordley
Date: 2002 Feb 22
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How shall I hold my soul that it may not be touching yours?|
How shall I lift it then, above you to where other things are waiting?
Ah, gladly would I lodge it, all forgot with some lost thing the dark is isolating
On some remote and silent spot that,when your depths vibrate, is not itself vibrating
You and me - all that lights upon us,though, brings us together like a fiddle bow
Drawing one voice from two strings it glides along, across what instrument have we been spanned?
And what violinist holds us in his hand?-Oh sweetest song!