Home ⇒ 📌Rainer Maria Rilke ⇒ The Panther
The Panther
His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
Has grown so weary that it cannot hold
Anything else. It seems to him there are
A thousand bars and behind the bars, no world.
As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
The movement of his powerful soft strides
Is like a ritual dance around a center
In which a mighty will stands paralyzed.
Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
Lifts, quietly-. An image enters in,
Rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
Plunges into the heart and is gone.
(2 votes, average: 2.50 out of 5)
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