() Rome (if one is not yet acquainted with it) seems oppressively sad when one first arrives: the lifeless and drear museum atmosphere it breathes, the abundance of fragments of the past (on which a tiny presence nourishes itself). ()
Vestiges of another age ()
Not your own and () not meant to be. ()
All these objects which generation after generation have continued to admire () they () have no heart and no value;
But there is great deal of beauty here, because there is beauty everywhere.
Infinitely lively waters go over the old aqueducts into the city and on the many squares dance over bowls of white stone and fill () basins and murmur all day
And raise their murmur into the night ()
Vast and starry and
Soft with winds.
And there are gardens ()
Built to resemble cascades of flowing water -
Giving birth to step after () step () wave after wave ()
Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
Excerpts
2/2, p01
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