But Rilke, No
January
7
Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing-Excerpt from Autumn Day
From The Book of Pictures
Rainer Maria Rilke
Why do I like reading your poetry so much? Dang.