Parading

I want to tell my friends how beautiful

here or wherever and even behind, beyond,

Perhaps you hear earthworms digging in the mud,

Sometimes, when the light strikes at odd angles

Somewhere a pipe organ plays the oldest, lowest sound from a fifty-foot pipe— ,

haystack, haystack, haystack. The only difference

However, I, poor fool, have never known

Rilke ends his sonnet “Archaic Torso of Apollo” saying

and there was a new voice

And what did you want?