RILKE | December: Winter Ribbons
RILKE | December: Winter Ribbons
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"...and to whom finally do we proffer these? But to the strangers, who misunderstood us, to the others, who we never found, to those servants, who bound us, winds of spring, that with this vanished, and to the silence, the one who has lost." from the Uncollected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke This week, an image of Ribbons in Winter. Also: three new translations from the German.
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| Hinter den schuld-losen Bäumen langsam bildet die alte Verhängnis ihr stummes Gesicht aus. Falten ziehen dorthin . . . Was ein Vogel hier aufkreischt, springt dort als Weh-zug ab an dem harten Wahrsagermund. O und die bald Liebenden lächeln sich an, noch abschiedlos, unter und auf über ihnen geht sternbildhaft ihr Schicksal, nächtig begeistert. Noch zu erleben nicht reicht es ihnen, noch wohnt es schwebend im himmlischen Gang, eine lichte Figur. (Heiligemdamm, August 1913) |
Behind the innocent trees old Fate slowly gives form to her mute face. Wrinkles are drawn there . . . What is here the shriek of birds there springs forth as the draft of pain on the hardened soothsayer's lips. O and the lovers soon-to-be smile at each other, still departureless, their destiny rising and falling upon them like clusters of stars, enchanted during the night. Still not reaching close enough for them to know, still living in its spare figure drifting in heavenly strides. |
| Einmal nahm ich zwischen meine Hände dein Gesicht. Der Mond fiel darauf ein. Unbegreiflichster der Gegenstände unter überfließendem Gewein. Wie ein williges, das still besteht, beinah war es wie ein Ding zu halten. Und doch war kein Wesen in der kalten Nacht, das mir unendlicher entgeht. O da strömen wir zur diesen Stellen, drängen in die kleine Oberfläche alle Wellen unseres Herzens, Lust und Schwäche, und wem halten wir sie schließlich hin? Ach dem Fremden, der uns mißverstanden, ach dem andern, den wir niemals fanden, denen Knechten, die uns banden, Frühlingwinden, die damit entschwanden, und der Stille, der Verliererin. (Paris, 1913) |
And once I took between my two hands your face. The moon's light fell upon it. Most unfathomable of all objects beneath the overflowing of tears. Like one who is willing, whose hushed term, almost was like a thing to be held. And yet there was no being in the cold night that more endlessly escaped me. O there we flow smoothly to these places, penetrating into the small surfaces all the waves of our hearts, pleasure and weakness, and to whom finally do we proffer these? But to the strangers, who misunderstood us, to the others, who we never found, to those servants, who bound us, winds of spring, that with this vanished, and to the silence, the one who has lost. |
| Spaziergang Schon ist mein Blick am Hügel, dem besonnten, dem Wege, den ich kaum begann, voran. So fasst uns das, was wir nicht fassen konnten, voller Erscheinung, aus der Ferne an— und wandelt uns, auch wenn wirs nicht erreichen, in jenes, das wir, kaum es ahnend, sind; ein Zeichen weht, erwidernd unserm Zeichen . . . Wir aber spüren nur den Gegenwind. (Muzot, Switzerland -- March, 1924) |
A Walk Already my gaze is upon the hill, the sunny one, at the end of the path which I've only just begun. So we are grasped, by that which we could not grasp, at such great distance, so fully manifest— and it changes us, even when we do not reach it, into something that, hardly sensing it, we already are; a sign appears, echoing our own sign . . . But what we sense is the falling winds. (all tr. Cliff Crego) |
(20) December: Clear Water, Smooth Granite and the Flow of Compassion
(19) November: More Figures from Interior Space
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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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"Straight roads, Slow rivers, Deep clay." |
A collection of contemporary Dutch poetry in English translation, with commentary and photographs by Cliff Crego |
