Rilke, "Abend"

To Alexandra on her birthday, a work ("Evening") by this Austrian poet.  You can read the original here.

The evening slowly changes vests,
Held by old trees in serried strand; 
You look, and from you break these lands – 
One heaven-bound, and one that sets –

That leave you unbelonging now,     
Not quite as sure of endless time, 
Not quite as dark as dumbest house: 
The stuff of stars that each night climbs.

Unravel life upon its loom, 
So anxious, huge, and ripe it'll grow;
Soon limited, and soon you'll know
How both in stone and star you'll bloom.