“Earth, my dearest, I will. Oh believe me, you no longer
Need your springtimes to win me over- one of them,
Ah, even one, is already too much for my blood.
Unspeakably I have belonged to you, from the first.
You were always right, and your holiest inspiration
Is our intimate companion, Death.
Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future
Grows any smaller…. Superabundant being
Wells up in my heart.”
-Rainer Maria Rilke