Sonnets to Orpheus: II - x
All achievement is threatened by the machine, as long
as it dares to take its place in the mind, instead of obeying.
That the master's hand no longer shines forth in fine lingerings,
now it cuts to the determined design more rigidly the stone
Not for an hour will it stay, so that for once we may flee it,
oiling itself in a quiet factory, fitly employed.
Now it is life, no less, and feels best able to be it,
having, with equal resolve, ordered, constructed, destroyed.
Even to-day, though, existence is magical, pouring
freshly from hundreds of well-springs, -- a playing of purest
forces, which none can surprise without humbly adoring.
Words still melt into something beyond their embrace. . .
Music, too, keeps building anew with the insecurest
stones her celestial house in unusable space.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke (Translated from different sources - a mix)