Nora Korkalo’s Reviews > Duino Elegies, Deluxe Edition: The original English translation of Rilke's landmark poetry cycle, by Vita and Edward Sackville-West - reissued for the first time in 90 years > Status Update

So he gave in. He loved. He loved his soul, loved that unruly jungle of himself, —
precipitate wilderness,
On which his heart, like a green light, reposed.

elegy 2: Infinity within a finite being…
As dew from springing grass, as the hot steam from smoking dish, so the intrinsic self exhales itself away...
See, it has happened to me that my hands grew conscious of each other…
Yet who would dare, by that, to say: I am?

Discussion on mortality and the afterlife, of faith and of humanity and of the brevity of existence.

Is it not time that we who love should free ourselves from the beloved, and quivering, resist? Most like the arrow that strives against the bowstring, gathered up, that in its leap it may transcend itself.
Nothing which is, is static.