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The Olive Garden

Rating: 2.6

(Rainer Maria Rilke)

He went up under the gray leaves
All gray and lost in the olive lands
And laid his forehead, gray with dust,
Deep in the dustiness of his hot hands.
After everything this. And this was the end.
-- Now I must go, as I am going blind.
And why is it Thy will that I must say
Thou art, when I myself no more can find Thee.

I find Thee no more. Not in me, no.
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7/31/2021 1:55:54 AM # 1.0.0.666