All the gardens I have ever gazed at
You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house —, and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,—
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,
gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows?
perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...
~ Rilke
Photo taken at Goatswood. DO visit this build, take your time to discover the stories that are peppered throughout this eerily beautiful village.
All the gardens I have ever gazed at
You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house —, and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,—
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,
gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows?
perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...
~ Rilke
Photo taken at Goatswood. DO visit this build, take your time to discover the stories that are peppered throughout this eerily beautiful village.