La Baigneuse, dite de Valpinçon (1808)

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A Walk

My eyes already touch the sunny hill./
going far ahead of the road I have begun./
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;/
it has inner light, even from a distance-

and charges us, even if we do not reach it,/
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,/
we already are; a gesture waves us on/
answering our own wave.../
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

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La Baigneuse, dite de Valpinçon (1808)

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