Growing Blind

Among all the others there sat a guest
    Who sipped her tea as if one apart,
    And she held her cup not quite like the rest;
    Once she smiled so it pierced one's heart.

    When the group of people arose at last
    And laughed and talked in a merry tone,
    As lingeringly through the rooms they passed
    I saw that she followed alone.

    Tense and still like one who to sing must rise
    Before a throng on a festal night
    She lifted her head, and her bright glad eyes
    Were like pools which reflected light.

    She followed on slowly after the last
    As though some object must be passed by,
    And yet as if were it once but passed
    She would no longer walk but fly.

        Rainer Maria Rilke
        (tr. Jessie Lamont)