Were the endlessly dead

to awaken some symbol,

within us, to indicate

themselves, they might

point to the catkins

dangling from the leafless

branches of the Hazel trees.

Or speak in drops of rain

falling to dark earth

in early spring.

Then we,

who have known joy

only as it escapes us,

rising to the sky,

would receive the

overwhelming benediction

of happiness descending.

--from Tenth Duino Elegy; Rainer Maria Rilke (trans. Robert Hunter)