for then it will become like a celebration.
And let each day happen to you
just like a child, with the passing of the breeze,
is given a cluster of blossoms. To gather up and save them –
this never enters the child’s mind.
He shakes them softly from his hair,
where they were so happily captured,
and holds out his hands anew
to the glorious years of his youth. This poem was written by Rainer Maria Rilke and translated from the German by Matthew Saks