Autumn Day
by Rainer Maria Rilke,
translated by Edward Snow
Lord: it is time. Your summer was superb.
Lay your shadows on the sundials,
and in the meadows let the winds go free.
Command the last fruits to be full;
give them only two more southern days,
urge them on to completion and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house will never build one now.
Whoever is alone now will long remain so,
will stay awake, read books, write long letters
and wander restless back and forth
along the tree-lined streets, as the leaves drift down.
(This morning I made two simultaneous felicitous discoveries: the above poem, from this book, and a perfectly delightful blogger and children's author named Sara Lewis Holmes, who is also a powerful poet in her own right. Her blog, Read, Write, Believe, retains all the freshness, invention and quirk of the blogosphere at its best; it's technically about "kid lit" but spangles out in all sorts of lovely digressions, including a fine blog carnival idea called "Poetry Friday." Sara is most welcome to walk in the park with me any day!)
Beautiful poem! Very timely, too.
Posted by: Tabatha | October 23, 2009 at 03:43 PM