Sometimes she walks through the village in her <br />little red dress <br />all absorbed in restraining herself, <br />and yet, despite herself, she seems to move <br />according to the rhythm of her life to come. <br /> <br />She runs a bit, hesitates, stops, <br />half-turns around... <br />and, all while dreaming, shakes her head <br />for or against. <br /> <br />Then she dances a few steps <br />that she invents and forgets, <br />no doubt finding out that life <br />moves on too fast. <br /> <br />It's not so much that she steps out <br />of the small body enclosing her, <br />but that all she carries in herself <br />frolics and ferments. <br /> <br />It's this dress that she'll remember <br />later in a sweet surrender; <br />when her whole life is full of risks, <br />the little red dress will always seem right.<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/child-in-red/
