Scan the heavens. Where's the constellation
that's called "horseman"? Strangely we're imprinted
with this pride of earth. And there's another,
urging, checking it, and carried by it.
Isn't our own nature's sinewy being
just like this—first whipped and then reined in?
Trail and turning. Pressure does the guiding.
New expanses. And the two are one.
Are they really, though? Are both committed
to the road they're traveling together?
Table, pasture—gulf apart already.
Star connections also prove deceptive.
So just let us for awhile enjoy
our belief in them. That is enough.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Sonnets to Orpheus
translated by Christiane Marks
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