Rainer Maria Rilke

(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926 / Prague / Czech Republic)

Rainer Maria Rilke Poems

1. At The Brink Of Night 4/8/2015
2. Behind The Blameless Trees 3/2/2015
3. Falconry 4/3/2010
4. Growing Old 4/3/2010
5. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Book 2: Vi 1/13/2003
6. The Song Of The Widow 1/13/2003
7. The Blindman's Song 1/3/2003
8. The Song Of The Blindman 1/13/2003
9. The Song Of The Beggar 1/13/2003
10. Little Tear-Vase 1/13/2003
11. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Iv 1/13/2003
12. My Life 4/3/2010
13. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Xxv 1/13/2003
14. Solemn Hour 1/3/2003
15. The Neighbor 1/13/2003
16. Spanish Dancer 1/13/2003
17. Lady On A Balcony 1/13/2003
18. Losing 4/3/2010
19. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Book 2: I 1/13/2003
20. The Apple Orchard 1/3/2003
21. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Book 2: Xxiii 1/13/2003
22. For Hans Carossa 1/13/2003
23. Greek Love-Talk 1/3/2003
24. Palm 1/3/2003
25. The Unicorn 1/3/2003
26. The Last Evening 1/13/2003
27. The Last Supper 1/13/2003
28. Song Of The Orphan 1/13/2003
29. Venetian Morning 1/13/2003
30. Lady At A Mirror 1/13/2003
31. Self-Portrait 1/13/2003
32. From The Tenth Elegy 1/13/2003
33. Water Lily 1/13/2003
34. What Birds Plunge Through Is Not The Intimate Space 1/13/2003
35. What Fields Are As Fragrant As Your Hands? 1/13/2003
36. To Lou Andreas-Salome 1/13/2003
37. The Poet 1/3/2003
38. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Xix 1/13/2003
39. Put Out My Eyes 1/3/2003
40. Lament 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Rainer Maria Rilke

A Walk

My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-

and charges us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.


Translated by Robert Bly

Read the full of A Walk

Abishag

I
She lay, and serving-men her lithe arms took,
And bound them round the withering old man,
And on him through the long sweet hours she lay,
And little fearful of his many years.

And many times she turned amidst his beard
Her face, as often as the night-owl screeched,
And all that was the night around them reached

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