“We have no reason to harbor any mistrust against our world, for it is not against us. If it has terrors, they are our terrors; if it has abysses, these abysses belong to us; if there are dangers, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life in accordance with the principle which tells us that we must always trust in the difficult, then what now appears to us as the most alien will become our most intimate and trusted experience.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke, excerpt from Letter #8, Letters to a Young Poet, August 12, 1904
La existencia de lo terrible en cada partícula de aire. Lo respiras con su transparencia; y se condensa en ti, se endurece, toma formas puntiagudas y geométricas entre tus órganos; pues todos los tormentos y todas las torturas llevadas a cabo en las plazas de ejecución, en las cámaras de tortura, en los manicomios, en las salas de operaciones, bajo los arcos de los puentes en el otoño tardío: todo eso es una obstinada permanencia, todo subsiste y se aferra, celoso de cuanto existe, a su espantosa realidad. Los hombres querrían poder olvidar mucho; su sueño lima suavemente esos surcos del cerebro, pero los sueños lo rechazan y vuelven a trazar el dibujo. Y se despiertan, anhelantes, y dejan fundirse en la oscuridad el resplandor de una luz, y beben como agua azucarada esta media luz apenas calmante.
Rainer Maria Rilke Los cuadernos de Malte Laurids Brigge (1910)
— Rainer Maria Rilke, The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke | Pablo Neruda (?) | Louise Glück, Vita Nova | Alberto Caeiro, The Collected Poems of Alberto Caeiro | Vladimir Nabokov, Mary | Etel Adnan, Jebu | Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary | Bangtan Sonyeondan (방탄소년단), 봄날 (Spring Day) | Artwork by Claude Monet
“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke: Letters to a Young Poet
Hard to do so in tumblr
ph. Vintage postcard from an Autochrome | src eBay
Nadie vive su vida Disfrazados desde la infancia ensamblados al azar de voces, miedos, pequeños placeres llegamos a la adultez como máscaras. Nuestro verdadero rostro nunca habla.
whenemily dickinson wrote “spring is a happiness so beautiful, so unique, so unexpected, that i don’t know what to do with my heart” and anaïs nin “to feel the spring, to renew my love affair with the world.” and sylvia plath “cheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul” and rainer maria rilke “it is spring again. the earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” and fyodor dostoevsky “and now it’s spring, so my ideas are always so nice, sharp, inventive, and the dreams i have are tender; everything is rose-coloured”
