Dove that ventured outside flying far from the dovecote
housed and protected again, one with the day, the night,
knows what serenity is, for she has felt her wings
pass through all distance and fear in the course of her wanderings
The doves that remained at home, never exposed to loss
innocent and secure, cannot know tenderness;
only the won back heart can ever be satisfied; free,
through all it has given up to rejoice in its mastery
Being arches itself over the vast abyss.
Ah the ball that we dared, that we hurled into infinite space,
doesn't it fill our hands differently with its return:
heavier by the weight of where it has been.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke
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