"Who never ate his bread with sorrow,
Who never spent the midnight hours
Weeping and wating for the morrow,
He knows Ye not, Ye heavenly powers."

(Goethe, translation by Carlyle)

At first a childhood, limitless and free
of any goals. Ah sweet unconsciousness.
Then sudden terror, schoolrooms, slavery,
the plunge into temptation and deep loss.

Defiance. The child bent becomes the bender,
inflicts on others what he once went through.
Loved, feared, rescuer, wrestler, victor,
he takes his vengeance, blow by blow.

And now in vast, cold, empty space, alone.
Yet hidden deep within the grown-up heart
a longing for the first world, the ancient one...

Then, from his place of ambush, God leapt out.

R.M. Rilke

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