Monday, April 26, 2010

Tuesday Poem: Rilke's 'Autumn Day'


Lord, it is time. The summer was too long.
Lay now thy shadow over the sundials,
and on the meadows let the winds blow strong.

Bid the last fruit to ripen on the vine;
allow them still two friendly southern days
to bring them to perfection and to force
the final sweetness in the heavy wine.

Who has no house now will not build him one.
Who is alone now will be long alone,
will waken, read, and write long letters
and through the barren pathways up and down
restlessly wander when dead leaves are blown.

Rainer Maria Rilke
(translated by CF McIntyre)


For more Tuesday Poems please visit the TUESDAY POEM blog.

2 comments:

Kay McKenzie Cooke. said...

here's a delicious sense of impending ... ness ... to this poem. Thanks, Rilke's a wonderful poet.

Pen said...

That's us here in the south in late April (not that summer was ever too long). Such portentous autumnal thrumming. Thanks.