Flying through the eyes of Rilke

Angel!: If there were a place that we didn't know of, and there,
on some unsayable carpet, lovers displayed
what they could never bring to matery here -- the bold
exploits of their high flying hearts,
their towers of pleasure, their ladders
that have long since been standing where there was no ground,
    leaning
just on each other, trembling, -- and could master all this,
before the surrounding spectators, the innumerable soundless dead;
    Would these, then, throw down their final, forever saved up,
forever hidden, unknown to us, eternally valid
coins of happiness before the at last
genuinely smiling pair on the gratified
carpet?