Listen, how the night carves itself out and grows hollow.
You stars, doesn’t a lover’s longing for his loved one’s
face come from you? Doesn’t his most intimate insight
into her purest face come from your own purest constellation?
—Rainer Maria Rilke, from “The Third Elegy” in Duino Elegies and the Sonnets of Orphesus, translated from the German by A. Poulin, Jr. (Houghton Mifflin, 1977)