But you now, dear girl, whom I loved like a flower whose <br /> name <br />I didn't know, you who so early were taken away: <br />I will once more call up your image and show it to them, <br />beautiful companion of the unsubduable cry. <br /> <br />Dancer whose body filled with your hesitant fate, <br />pausing, as though your young flesh had been cast in bronze; <br />grieving and listening--. Then, from the high dominions, <br />unearthly music fell into your altered heart. <br /> <br />Already possessed by shadows, with illness near, <br />your blood flowed darkly; yet, though for a moment <br /> suspicious, <br />it burst out into the natural pulses of spring. <br /> <br />Again and again interrupted by downfall and darkness, <br />earthly, it gleamed. Till, after a terrible pounding, <br />it entered the inconsolably open door. <br /> <br /> <br />Translated by Stephen Mitchell<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sonnets-to-orpheus-xxv/
