Autumn Day
October is always my cue to take Rilke off the shelf. He's the poet of Autumn...
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.Each year when I read it, it seems truer to me.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.
Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.*
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*"Autumn Day". I've done something slightly sacrilegious here, combining two translations. The first two stanzas are from Galway Kinnell and Hannah Liebmann and the last is from Stephen Mitchell. It just so happens that Kinnell/Liebman render the first two stanzas beautifully, but falter in the last, where Mitchell's first two are awkward, but his last is spot-on.
What a wonderful poem!
I read the original just now, and I think your act of sacrilege was a nice move.
Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr groß.
Indeed.
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You and your readers might like to know about LOST SON, a new novel based on Rilke's life and work. It quietly appeared in the world back in June. Find out more at www.mallencunningham.com.
Rilke always said that autumn was his most productive time of year. Thanks for posting this.
Cheers.
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