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Saturday, May 16, 2015

Rilke - Book of Hours

It's possible I'm moving through the hard veins of heavy mountains, like the ore does, alone; I'm already so deep inside, I see no end in sight, and no distance: everything is getting near and everything getting near is turning to stone.

I still can't see very far yet into suffering,—so this vast darkness makes me small; are you the one: make yourself powerful, break in: so that your whole being may happen to me, and to you may happen, my whole cry.

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