Rainer Maria Rilke

[glenn]

Song of the Dwarf

By Rainer Maria Rilke 1875–1926
(Translated from the German by Lucia Perillo)

Maybe my soul is straight and good,
but she’s got to lug my heart, my blood,
which all hurts because it’s crooked;
its weight sends her staggering.
She has no bed, she has no home,
she merely hangs on my sharp bones,
flapping her terrible wings.


And my hands are completely shot,
shriveled, worn: here, take a look
at how they clammily, clumsily hop
like rain-crazed toads.
As for all the other stuff,
it’s all used up and sad and old—
why doesn’t God haul me out to the muck
and let me drop.


Is it because of my mug
with its frowning mouth?
So often I would itch
to be luminous and free of fog
but nothing would approach
except big dogs.
And the dogs got zilch.

[glenn]

Fall


The leaves are falling, falling as from far,
from wilting in the heavens' farthest gardens:
They're falling to negate the summer's mirth.
And in the nights the heavy Earth
falls into solitude from star to star.
We all are falling. This my hand here bends.
And look at others: Fall's in all their calling.
And yet there's One, who's holding all this falling
forever tender in His upturned hands...


I've seen many translations of this poem. Each one has its own strong points. I found this translation at:

myweb.dal.ca/waue/Trans/Rilke-Herbst.html

The link is worth visiting, if for nothing else, just to have a look at the remarkable photographs that are to be found there.