Both a Breath and a Shout

-
-

Liu Xiaobo's empty chair at the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony

For the record:

Thank you to the powers that be and have been these two hundred thirty-four years. For being able to use words the way I want. For John Milton, John Locke, and John Stuart Mill. For Noam Chomsky. (Even for Julian Assange?) For Rainer Maria Rilke who wrote: "Maybe we're here only to say: house, / bridge, well, gate, jug, olive tree, window — / at most, pillar, tower ... but to say them, remember, / oh, to say them in a way that the things themselves / never dreamed of existing so intensely." For all words spoken and written. For blogging. For Blogger! For free, and for freedom. For you. For me. And especially today, for Liu Xiaobo.

Both a Breath and a Shout

by Rainer Maria Rilke

I want to praise him.

Loud as a trumpet

in the vanguard of the army,

I will run ahead and proclaim.

My words will be sweet to hear.

My people will drink them in like wine

and not get drunk.

And on moonless nights, when few remain

around my tent, I will make music as soft

as a last warm wind that hovers

late and tender before the winter's chill.

So my voice becomes both a breath and a shout.

One prepares the way, the other

surrounds my loneliness with angels.


~ from The Book of Hours, 1899-1903

-

-

-

-