English poetry

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The Wait

It is life in slow motion,
It’s the heart in reverse,
It’s a hope-and-a-half:
Too much and too little at once.

It’s a train that suddenly
Stops with no station around,
And we can hear the cricket,
And, leaning out the carriage

Door, we vainly contemplate
A wind we feel that stirs
The blooming meadows, the meadows
Made imaginary by this stop.

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Poem The Wait - Rainer Maria Rilke