September 30, 2020

Fleeting

Oh not because happiness exists, • that too-hasty profit snatched from approaching loss.

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.

… Ah, but what can we take along • into that other realm? Not the art of looking, • which is learned so slowly, and nothing that happened here. Nothing. • The sufferings, then. And, above all, the heaviness, • and the long experience of love,—just what is wholly unsayable.

— Rainer Maria Rilke

Poetry quoted in the book Jen and I are reading now.

Jen is fighting a fever, but resting comfortably.

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