How shall I hold my soul that it may not be touching yours?
How shall I lift it then above you to where other things are waiting?
Ah, gladly would I lodge it, all forgot,
with some lost thing in the dark is isolating on some remote and silent spot that,
when your depths vibrate, is not itself vibrating.
You and me-all that lights upon us,though,
brings us together like a fiddle-bow
drawing one voice from two strings it glides along.
Across what instruments have we been spanned?
And what violinist holds us in his hand?
O sweetest song
Ranier Maria Rilke , Possibility of being, New Directions Publishing Corp.
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