Rainer Maria Rilke (4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926 / Prague / Czech Republic)
She who did not come, wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?
Lovely joy left blank, perhaps you are
the center of all my labors and my loves.
If I've wept for you so much, it's because
I preferred you among so many outlined joys.
Comments about this poem (Blank Joy by Rainer Maria Rilke )
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