Enchanted one: how shall the harmony
of two perfect words attain that rhyme
which ripples through you like a spell?
From your forehead rise leaf and lyre,

and all you are already moves in simile
through love-songs whose words, softly
like rose petals, settle on the gaze of one
who, no longer reading, closes his eyes:

and sees you there: transported, as if
each limb were charged with leaps and only
held its fire for the instant your neck

keeps your head still, listening: as when a woman
bathing in a forest hears something stir:
the lake’s reflection in her quick-turned face


Rainer Maria Rilke - The Gazelle

(for Reem)