Lament

How everything is far away
and long deceased.
I think now, that the star
whose brightness reached me
has been dead for a thousand years.
I think now, that in the boat
which slipped past
I heard something fearful being said.
Inside the house a clock
just struck . . .
Inside what house? . . .
I would like to step out of my heart's door
and be under the great sky.
I would like to pray.
And surely one of all those stars
must still exist.
I think now, that I know
which one alone
has lasted,--
which one like a white city
stands at its light's end in the sky . . .

~ Rainer Maria Rilke