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My eyes already [touch] the sunny hill. going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot [grasp]; it has inner light, even from a distance- and charges us, even if we do not [reach] it, into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture [waves] us on answering our own wave... but what we feel is the wind in our faces..

`A walk` by Rainer Maria Rilke


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