Oh, Rilke, how I adore you.
from Book of Hours
You, darkness, of whom I am born —
I love you more than the flame
that limits the world
to the circle it illumines
and excludes all the rest.
But the darkness embraces everything:
shapes and shadows, creatures and me,
people, nations — just as they are.
It lets me imagine
a great presence stirring beside me.
I believe in the night.
translated by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows
Hello again, readers. Apologies for the blogging hibernation. Let’s jump right into some verse, shall we?
“Entering” by Rainer Maria Rilke
Whoever you may be: step into the evening.
Step out of the room where everything is known.
Whoever you are,
your house is the last before the far-off.
With your eyes, which are almost too tired
to free themselves from the familiar,
you slowly take one black tree
and set it against the sky: slender, alone.
And you have made a world.
It is big
and like a word, still ripening in silence.
And though your mind would fabricate its meaning,
your eyes tenderly let go of what they see.
translation by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows