The Words of Humans Fill Me With Fear

by Rilke


The words of humans fill me with fear.
They name all the things with articulate sound:
so this is called house and that is called hound,
and the end's over there and the start's over here.

Their thinking is scary, with scorn they have fun;
they know what will come and what came before;
and even the mountain is sacred no more:
their property ends just where God's has begun.

I'm meaning to warn them and stop them: Stay clear!
It's the singing of things I'm longing to hear.
You touch them and stiff and silent they turn.
You're killing the things for whose singing I yearn!