Vielleicht, das ich dur schwere Berge gehe

Ranier Maria Rilke

It feels as though I make my way
through massive rock
like a vein of ore
alone, encased.

I am so deep inside it
I can't see the path or any distance:
and everything is close
and everything closing in on me
has turned to stone.

Since I still don't know enough about pain,
this terrible darkness makes me small.
If it's you, though-

press down hard on me, break in
that I may know the weight of your hand,
and you, the fullness of my cry.