Breasts (by Ranier Maria Rilke)

How fortunate to bear two small breasts
toward someone, toward the unknown....
Two small breasts that say: perhaps tomorrow
and which, with nothing more,
are happy. The locket with the sweet
picture of the mother rests between them; -
it’s as if its protection
separates these two breasts so the young girl
won’t dare feel both of them at once,
these small adolescent breasts that must be
borne toward someone, toward the unknown,
and which exist a little without
the bearer’s knowledge.
Will they make her happy,
these two small, innocent breasts
which resist the winds
of life? These small stubborn breasts
seemingly dressed in mourning,
against which, under
imperceptible alerts, they pose
their tender demands like covered
roses.

-- transl. A. Poulin, Jr.