For I have known them all already,
known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings,
afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee
spoons;
I know the voices dying with a fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
“Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke
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