Annunciation
Words of an Angel
by Rainer Maria Rilke

You are not nearer God than we;
we are all far from him.
And yet how beautifully
your hands are blessed.
No woman’s ripen that way,
shimmering thus out of the sleeve:
I am the day, I am the dew,
you though are the tree.

I’m exhausted now, my way was far,
forgive me, I’ve forgotten
what He, who great in gold array
sat throned as in the sun,
gave me to tell you, you pensive one,
(space has me confused).
Look: I’m whatever is beginning,
you though are the tree.

I stretched my wings to rest them
and grew oddly vast;
now your small house overflows
with my great brocade.
And yet you are more alone
than ever and scarcely notice me;
it’s true: I am a breath inside the forest,
you though are the tree.

The angels all grow afraid,
let one another go:
never was desire like this,
so vague and great.
Perhaps something soon will happen.
that you now grasp in dream.
Greetings to you, my soul now sees:
You are ready and grow ripe.
You are a great, high shining gate,
and you will open soon.
You, my song’s most cherished ear,
now I feel: my word got lost
in you as in a wood.

And so I came that way and made complete
your thousand and one dreams.
God looked at me: the light was blinding….

You though are the tree.