Du Nachbar Gott, wenn ich dich manchesmal
You, God, who live next door--
If at times, through the long night, I trouble you
with my urgent knocking--
this is why: I hear you breathe so seldom.
I know you're all alone in that room.
If you should be thirsty, there's no one
to get you a glass of water.
I wait listening, always. Just give me a sign!
I'm right here.
As it happens, the wall between us
is very thin. Why couldn't a cry
from one of us
break it down? It would crumble
it would barely make a sound.
From Rilke's Book of Hours (trs. by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)