There exists a creature which is perfectly harmless; when it passes before your eyes you scarcely notice it and forget it again immediately. But as soon as it invisibly gets somehow into your ears, it develops there, it hatches, as it were, and cases have been known where it was penetrated even into the brain and has thriven devastatingly in that organ, like those pneumococci in dogs that gain entrance through the nose.
This creature is one's neighbor.
Nikad ne treba očajavati, kad se nešto izgubi, osoba ili radost ili sreća; sve se još divnije vraća. Što otpasti mora, otpada, što nama pripada, uz nas ostaje, jer sve se po zakonima odvija, koji su veći od naše spoznaje i s kojima smo samo naočigled u suprotnosti. Treba u sebi živeti i na celi život misliti, na sve svoje milijone mogućnosti, širine i budućnosti, naspram kojih ne postoji ni prošlo niti izgubljeno.
Rainer Maria RilkeThe work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
Rainer Maria RilkeEines ist, die Geliebte zu singen. Ein anderes, wehe,
jenen verborgenen schuldigen Fluß-Gott des Bluts.
But because truly being here is so much; because everything here apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all. Once for each thing. Just once; no more. And we too, just once. And never again. But to have been this once, completely, even if only once: to have been at one with the earth, seems beyond undoing.
Rainer Maria RilkeTags: purpose
Now we wake up with our memory
and fix our gazes on that which was;
whispering sweetness, which once coursed through us,
sits silently beside us with loosened hair
The highest form of love is to be the protector of another person’s solitude.
Rainer Maria RilkeWhoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while dry leaves are blowing.
Tags: home letters alone autumn
I have a notion that, at big fires, a moment of extreme suspense can sometimes occur, when the jets of water slacken off, the firemen no longer climb, no one moves a muscle. Without a sound, a high black wall of masonry cants over up above, the fire blazing behind it, and, without a sound, leans, about to topple. Everyone stands waiting, shoulders tensed, faces drawn in around their eyes, for the terrible crash. That is how the silence is here.
Rainer Maria RilkeAnd I circle ten thousand years long; And I still don't know if I'm a falcon, a storm, or an unfinished song.
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