You, Beloved, who are all the gardens I have ever gazed at, longing. An open window in a country house -, and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon, - you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening. (Rainer Maria Rilke)

You, Beloved, who are all the gardens I have ever gazed at, longing. An open window in a country house -, and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon, - you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening.

Rainer Maria Rilke

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almost beloved bird country dizzy evening house image longing meet open perhaps presence separate shop step window yesterday

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