You who never arrived

You who never arrived 

in my arms, Beloved, who were lost 

from the start,

I don't even know what songs

would please you.

 (Rainer Maria Rilke)

I fell into this poem far before i knew the author. Beautiful...sad at the same time, and pathetic sometimes.

I knew this poem for the first time from a fiction story. A deep fiction, something deep, something makes you think, and i love to read those kind of deep things.

It's a story about two people i used to know. 

The sociable and the loner

Some people say they share soul

The brain and the heart

The saviour and the protector

and this is the complete version of this poem

You who never arrived

You who never arrived 
 in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment. All the immense
images in me -- the far-off, deeply-felt
landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and
unsuspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods--
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house-- , and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,--
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and,
startled, gave back my too-sudden image.
Who knows? Perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening... 

Rainer Maria Rilke

I searched it yesterday, beautiful isn't it?

Rilke was born in Prague in December 4th  1875, and i wonder what kind of person inspired him to write this amazing thing.