The future: time's excuse <br />to frighten us; too vast <br />a project, too large a morsel <br />for the heart's mouth. <br /> <br />Future, who won't wait for you? <br />Everyone is going there. <br />It suffices you to deepen <br />the absence that we are. <br /> <br /> <br />Translated by A. Poulin<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-future-2/
