Rainer Maria Rilke
translated by A. Poulin (1986)
The future: time's excuse
to frighten us; too vast
a project, too large a morsel
for the heart's mouth.
Future, who won't wait for you?
Everyone is going there.
It suffices you to deepen
the absence that we are.
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1 comment:
from Well-Versed: Poems for the Road Ahead, a small collection of poems put out by AIG: Insurance, Loans, Retirement
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