Rainier Maria Rilke, The Fountains of Joy (poetry excerpt)

[elfs]

This is one of the most moving Transhumanist poems I've ever read. It's stunning to think it was written in 1922:

Nowhere, beloved, will world be, but within. Our
life passes in change. The external world diminishes
to less and less. Where there an enduring house stood,
some cerebral structure crosses our path, as fully
at home among ideas as if it still stood in the brain.
Our age has built itself vast reservoirs of power,
shapeless like the straining energy it wrests from the earth.
Temples are no longer known. Those extravagances
of the heart we keep more secretly.