Rainer Maria Rilke
Rainer Maria Rilke Poems
|121.||What Fields Are As Fragrant As Your Hands?||1/13/2003|
|123.||Woman In Love||1/3/2003|
|124.||World Was In The Face Of The Beloved||1/13/2003|
|125.||You Who Never Arrived||1/3/2003|
|127.||You, You Only, Exist||1/3/2003|
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
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