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A review by erripsis
Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke
3.5
“Therefore, dear Sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away... and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast....”
Something within me has awakened, as if a universe of emotions has been unearthed from the depths of my heart, frigid and almost withered by the trials of adulthood.
“be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend.”
And I look forward. And I look back. I look forward. I look back.
The present weighs on me with some kind of both lightness and heaviness.
“Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn't necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust....”
I miss and I long. I long... It’s the sweet words from great mentors, teachers, and professors from the past who filled my writing with hope and admiration. The feeling of security that someone from a third person’s point of view sees you with optimism.
I don’t think I’m meant to live loudly, for I am the loudest in the quietest of hours.
I let out a heavy sigh, releasing whatever seems to weigh me down as I close the book.
Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke, you have been a cherished companion.
Something within me has awakened, as if a universe of emotions has been unearthed from the depths of my heart, frigid and almost withered by the trials of adulthood.
“be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend.”
And I look forward. And I look back. I look forward. I look back.
The present weighs on me with some kind of both lightness and heaviness.
“Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn't necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust....”
I miss and I long. I long... It’s the sweet words from great mentors, teachers, and professors from the past who filled my writing with hope and admiration. The feeling of security that someone from a third person’s point of view sees you with optimism.
I don’t think I’m meant to live loudly, for I am the loudest in the quietest of hours.
I let out a heavy sigh, releasing whatever seems to weigh me down as I close the book.
Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke, you have been a cherished companion.