Edited & translated by Stephen Mitchell, this has been hailed as the finest English translation of Rilke available. I wouldn't know about that. But I do know that I have read and reread Rilke for as long as I've been aware of a world outside myself. Drive to a hallowed spot with a winding path going on into the sky...for me, that is what his writing is like. One feels the need to walk the path. "But we, when moved by deep feeling, evaporate: we breathe ourselves out and away; from moment to moment our emotion grows fainter, like a perfume. Though someone may tell us: Yes, you've entered my bloodstream, the room, the whole springtime is filled with you...' What does it matter? he can't contain us, we vanish inside him and around him..."