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Breath
From Rilke. 1:3 Translation by John Rosenwald
To sing, as you insist, is not to yearn,
nor strive for something one at last achieves.
To sing is to exist.The God does it with ease.
But when are we? And when does he turn
toward our existence both the earth and stars?
Your loving, young man is not enough, even if
your voice bursts from your mouth when you begin.
Learn to forget that you sang out.
True singing takes a different kind of breath.
A breath for nothing.
A whirling in God. A wind.
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