Sunday, September 19, 2010

Wild Rosebush



How it stands there against the darkening
evening rain, young and pure;
its arched branches pouring out in giving
and yet deeply immersed in its rose-being.

the shallow blossoms, here and there already open,
each one unwilled and uncared for:
and so, each endlessly surpassed
and indescribably excited by itself,

calling to the wanderer, who in evening
reflection passes down the way:
Oh look at me, look here, see how safe
and unprotected I am, having only what I need.


Rainer Maria Rilke








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