Saturday, September 26, 2009

458 All becomes festival...

You, you only, exist.
We pass away, till at last,
our passing is so immense
that you arise: beautiful moment,
in all your suddenness,
arising in love, or enchanted
in the contraction of work.

To you I belong, however time may
wear me away. From you to you
I go commanded. In between
the garland is hanging in chance; but if you
take it up and up and up:
look:

all becomes festival!
(Rilke)

2 Thoughts:

Ricardo said...

Technically a high level. The frame composition and color very good.
Greetings

Walter Neiger said...

one word: beautiful!

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