Two incredible Rilke poems in which music figures prominently:

"To Music"
Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.

Feelings for whom? O you the transformation
of feelings into what?--: into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out,--
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
boundless,
no longer habitable.

"Love-Song"
How shall I hold my soul, that it may not
Be touching yours? How shall I lift it then,
Above you to where other things are waiting?
Ah, gladly would I lodge it, all-forgot,
With some lost thing the dark is isolating,
On some remote and silent spot that, when
Your depths vibrate, is not itself vibrating.
You and me--all that lights upon us, though,
Brings us together like a fiddle-bow
Drawing one voice from two strings it glides along.
Across what instrument have we been spanned?
And what violinist holds us in his hand?
O sweetest song.

M