How can I hold my soul
so it won’t touch yours?
How can I raise it beyond you to other things?
I wish I could house it in some darkened place,
among other objects left unfound,
some silent space that won’t ring out
when your hidden depths resound.
Yet what touches you, touches me too.
It brings us together like a single bow:
two strings from which one voice is drawn.
But on what instrument are we spanned?
And what player holds us in his hand,
O sweetest song?
Rainer Maria RilkeTranslated from German by Paul Weinfield, © 2013