Complete poem by Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 – 1926)
Only you, who dare to lift the lyre
inside the inner labyrinth and maze,
will find the pathway back into the light
of endless gratefulness and praise.
Only you, who on death’s bitter flowers
have slept and fed,
will sing a living song
to what was given up for dead.
What shimmers on the pane between the worlds
will quickly slip away;
internalize what you behold.
When born of these two realms
our words and ways
become more valuable than gold.