A Walk
My eyes already touch the sunny hill. Going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; It has inner light, even from a distance- And
In The Beginning
Ever since those wondrous days of Creation Our Lord God sleeps: we are His sleep. And He accepted this in His indulgence, Resigned to rest among the distant stars. Our actions stopped Him from
The Sonnets To Orpheus: IV
O you tender ones, walk now and then Into the breath that blows coldly past, Upon your cheeks let it tremble and part; Behind you it will tremble together again. O you blessed ones,
To Lou Andreas-Salome
I held myself too open, I forgot That outside not just things exist and animals Fully at ease in themselves, whose eyes Reach from their lives’ roundedness no differently Than portraits do from frames;
Autumn Day
Four Translations Lord: it is time. The summer was immense. Lay your shadow on the sundials And let loose the wind in the fields. Bid the last fruits to be full; Give them another
To Say Before Going To Sleep
I would like to sing someone to sleep, Have someone to sit by and be with. I would like to cradle you and softly sing, Be your companion while you sleep or wake. I
The Neighbor
Strange violin, why do you follow me? In how many foreign cities did you Speak of your lonely nights and those of mine. Are you being played by hundreds? Or by one? Do in
The Sonnets To Orpheus: XIX
Though the world keeps changing its form As fast as a cloud, still What is accomplished falls home To the Primeval. Over the change and the passing, Larger and freer, Soars your eternal song,
Love Song
How can I keep my soul in me, so that It doesn’t touch your soul? How can I raise It high enough, past you, to other things? I would like to shelter it, among
Child In Red
Sometimes she walks through the village in her little red dress All absorbed in restraining herself, And yet, despite herself, she seems to move According to the rhythm of her life to come. She
Evening
The sky puts on the darkening blue coat Held for it by a row of ancient trees; You watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight, One journeying to heaven, one that falls;
The Poet
O hour of my muse: why do you leave me, Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight? Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter? How shall I pass my days? And
Greek Love-Talk
What I have already learned as a lover, I see you, beloved, learning angrily; Then for you it distantly departed, Now your destiny stands in all the stars. Over your breasts we will together
Parting
How I have felt that thing that’s called ‘to part’, And feel it still: a dark, invincible, Cruel something by which what was joined so well Is once more shown, held out, and torn
Slumber Song
Some day, if I should ever lose you, Will you be able then to go to sleep Without me softly whispering above you Like night air stirring in the linden tree? Without my waking