Angel, come and take my hand.
For you, it’s just a matter of will
to be the way out from this land,
you who stand so still.
You see, I’m afraid, for I believe
this time I’ll be refused.
There were gifts that I received
I never learned to use
and so I found myself forsaken.
At first, the sound of being alone
was like a prelude to a journey still untaken,
but all that music only cut me to the bone.
Rainer Maria RilkeTranslated from French by Paul Weinfield, © 2013