The Poet Speaks of Praising

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Oh say, poet, what is it that you do?
                                           -- I praise.

But what of the deadly and monstrous, 
how do you endure all this, how do you take it in?
                                             - I praise.

But the nameless, the anonymous, 
how, despite it all, do you keep calling to them, poet?
                                              - I praise.

Where does it come from, your claim to be true
in every guise and in each mask?
                                               - I praise.

And that the stillness and turbulence
know you like star and storm?
                                              - Because I praise.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke