Night (O you whose countenance) by Rainer Maria Rilke
Night. O you whose countenance, dissolved in deepness, hovers above my face. You who are the heaviest counterweight to my astounding contemplation.
Night, that trembles as reflected in my eyes, but in itself strong; inexhaustible creation, dominant, enduring beyond the earth's endurance;
Night, full of newly created stars that leave trails of fire streaming from their seams as they soar in inaudible adventure through interstellar space:
how, overshadowed by your all-embracing vastness, I appear minute!--- Yet, being one with the ever more darkening earth, I dare to be in you.
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