My eyes already touch the sunny hills,
Going far ahead from the roads where I have begun,
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasped,
It has inner light, even from a distance,
And charges us, even if we do not reach it
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
We already are, a gesture waves us on
Answering our own wave,
But what we feel is the wind in our faces.
(Rainer Maria Rielke)
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