Parading

Down Sally Cow Lane and Elsewhere

Whoever you are, go out into the evening,

your house is the last before the infinite,
leaving your room, of which you know each bit;
leaving your room, of which you know each bit;
your house is the last before the infinite,
your house is the last before the infinite,
whoever you are.
whoever you are.
Then with your eyes that wearily
Then with your eyes that wearily
scarce lift themselves from the worn-out door-stone
scarce lift themselves from the worn-out door-stone
slowly you raise a shadowy black tree —Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by C. F. MacIntyre
slowly you raise a shadowy black tree
—Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by C. F. MacIntyre

atoms

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