Sunday, July 17, 2005

THE SAME VIEW.............

from a different direction of the blog post Sunday Poem, Life is Short.

Who shows a child as he really is? Who sets him
in his constellation and puts the measuring-rod
of distance in his hand? Who makes his death
out of gray bread, which hardens - or leaves it there
inside his round mouth, jagged as the core
of a sweet apple? .. . . . .. . Murderers are easy
to understand. But this, that one can contain
death, the whole of death, even before
life has begun, can hold it to one's heart
gently, and not refuse to go on living,
is inexpressible.

from the Fourth Duino Elegy, by Rilke

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