RILKE | May: Alder Spring
RILKE | May: Alder
Spring
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"so that he may see you: carried about as if each slender leg were charged with leaps, not to be fired as long as the neck holds the head high in listening: as when, while bathing in a dark forest, the bather interrupts herself: the forest pool still reflected in her turning face." from The Gazelle, a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke This week, an image called Avalanche Alder Spring Also: two new translations from the German.
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Alder Spring and the Yin and Yang of
Rhythm and Space | Listen in RealAudio |
The Avalanche Alder (Alnus veridis) pictured above is a modest, unassuming
plant. Its growth form is shrubby, dividing into numerous small branches rising
rarely more than two meters from a central point close to the ground. It generally
forms closed stands which can be quite extensive, and, as its common name
suggests, the Avalanche Alder's preferred habitat is on the steep, north-facing
slopes of the European Alps, from about 900 to 1700 meters in altitude. This
is indeed avalanche country, where at any moment between March on into June
an entire winter's snowpack can suddenly break loose and come crashing down
the mountain. The Avalanche Alder is, however, supremely adapted. The extreme
forces exerted by the sliding snow are met by its flexible branches which simply
give way and bend flat against the ground, letting the great weight pass by
unscathed.
A closer look at the photo reveals also that the Avalanche Alder, like other members
of the Birch family (Betula) has both male and female catkins on the same tree.
(male: hanging, and almost ripe; female: erect and just opening). I feel there's
perhaps nothing more beautiful in Nature than getting to know a plant like these
alders well. That is, to become a part of their seasonal cycle, and to watch how
this rhythm changes, ,from year to year.
What I also find interesting about the image is the subtle idea of the complementarity
of masculine and feminine principles embodied in the catkins. It suggests the
yang and yin of the Chinese Taoist. In perhaps an equally subtle way, so too
do the two masterpieces from Rilke's New Poems (c. 1907) presented
together here suggest a comparable kind of back and forth.
What I would like to call attention to in this context is that, within the same
sonnet form, we hear two very distinct—yet indeed wonderfully complementary—
qualities of movement.
One, the Archaic Torso of Apollo, is as powerfully masculine in its rhythm,
in its sound, as we imagine the marble of the described figure itself to be. With
the other, The Gazelle, we hear an enchanting cascade in slow motion
as Rilke offeres us one delicate image after the other, all woven together in a
single long flowing braid, or phrase. Rilke did not often achieve such perfect
balance in contrast. But then, few poets have. Which leads one to marvel all
the more, perhaps as we bump our head against a tangle of twigs while
ascending a snowbound path and pondering such arcane matters of poetics,
at the natural poise and power of but a simple, common, mountain tree.
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Archaïscher Torso
Apollos Wir kannten nicht sein unerhörtes Haupt, darin die Augenäpfel reiften. Aber sein Torso glüht wie ein Kandelaber, in dem sein Schauen, nur zurückgeschraubt, sich hält und glänzt. Sonst könnte nicht der Bug der Brust dich blenden, und im leisen Drehen der Lenden könnte nicht ein Lächeln gehen zu jener Mitte, die die Zeugung trug. Sonst stünde dieser Stein enstellt und kurz unter der Schultern durchsichtigem Sturz und flimmerte nicht wie Raubtierfelle; und bräche nicht aus allen seinen Rändern aus wie ein Stern: denn da ist keine Stelle, die dich nicht sieht. Du mußt dein Leben ändern. aus: Neuen Gedichte |
Archaic Torso of Apollo We do not know his unheard of head, in which the seeing of his eyes ripened. But his trunk still glows like a thousand candles, in which his looking, only turned down slightly, continues to shine. Otherwise the thrust of the breast wouldn't blind you, and from the light twist of the loins a smile couldn't flow into that center where the generative power thrived. Otherwise this stone would stand half disfigured under the transparent fall of the shoulders, and wouldn't shimmer like the skin of a wild animal; it wouldn't be breaking out, like a star, on all its sides: for there is no place on this stone that does not see you. You must change your life. |
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Die Gazelle Grazella Dorcas Verzauberte: wie kann der Einklang zweier erwählter Worte je den Reim erreichen, der in dir kommt und geht, wie auf ein Zeichen. Aus deiner Stirne steigen Laub und Leier, und alles Deine geht schon im Vergleich durch Liebeslieder, deren Worte, weich wie Rosenblätter, dem, der nicht mehr liest, sich auf die Augen legen, die er schließt: um dich zu sehen: hingetragen, als wäre mit Sprüngen jeder Lauf geladen und schösse nur nicht ab, solang der Hals das Haupt im Horchen hält: wie wenn beim Baden im Wald die Badende sich unterbricht: den Waldsee im gewendeten Gesicht. Rainer Maria Rilke aus: Neuen Gedichte |
The Gazelle Grazella Dorcas Enchanted being: how can the harmony of two chosen words ever achieve the rhyme, as with a sign, that comes and goes in you. Out of your brow rise leaf and lyre, and everything yours already runs as metaphor through love songs, the words of which, soft as rose petals, for the one who no longer reads, laid upon the eyes, which he closes: so that he may see you: carried about as if each slender leg were charged with leaps, not to be fired as long as the neck holds the head high in listening: as when, while bathing in a dark forest, the bather interrupts herself: the forest pool still reflected in her turning face. (tr. Cliff Crego) |
(29) April: Willow Spring
(28) April: A Light too Bright to Bear
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See also another website by Cliff Crego: The Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke |
a presentation of 80 of the best poems of Rilke in both German and new English translations: biography, links, posters |
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See also: new |
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"Straight
roads, Slow rivers, Deep clay." |
A collection of contemporary Dutch poetry in English translation, with commentary and photographs by Cliff Crego |
