Week 1


by Rainer Maria Rilke

Tell us, O poet, what do you do?—I praise

But those dark, deadly devastating ways,

How do you bear them, suffer them?—I praise.

And the Nameless, beyond guess or gaze,

How can you call it, conjure it?—I praise.

And whence your right, in every kind of maze

In every mask, to remain true?—I praise.

And that the mildest and the wildest ways

Know you like star and storm?—Because I praise.