Saturday, February 27, 2010

Rilke: To Music

 Hans Memling, Musician Angels

Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.

Feelings for whom? 0 you the transformation
of feelings into what?-; into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
Which, rising above us, forces its way out,­ -
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
no longer habitable.

Rilke, translated by Stephen Mitchell

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