05/04/09 – 5:13pm (fling the emptiness)
“For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying. And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing. Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need? Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware that we are not really at home in our interpreted world. Perhaps there remains for us some tree on a hillside, which every day we can take into our vision; there remains for us yesterday’s street and the loyalty of a habit so much at ease when it stayed with us that it moved in and never left. Oh and night: there is night, when a wind full of infinite space gnaws our face. Whom would it not remain for – that longed-after, midly disillusioning presence, which the solitary heart so painfully meets.
Is it any less difficult for lovers? But they keep on using each other to hide their own fate. Don’t you know yet? Fling the emptiness out of your arms into the spaces we breathe;
perhaps the birds will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying.” – Rainer Maria Rilke: “The First Elegy.”