Behind the blameless trees
old fate slowly builds
her mute countenance.
Wrinkles grow there . . .
What a bird shrieks here
springs there like a gasp of warning
from a soothsayer's hard mouth.
And the soon-to-be lovers
smile on each other, not yet knowing farewell,
and round about them, like a constellation,
their destiny casts
its nightly spell.
Still to come, it does not reach out to them,
it remains
a phantom
floating in its heavenly course.
This translation is by James Burnham. See blackcatpoems.com for additional Rilke translations.
Very thoughtful poem, I enjoyed it.10...To write about the fate in such a manner is awesome. We always blame it in one or the other way but the fact remains as is which is Blameless.
Fate is also like blameless tree where every thing happens at its own course.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a very beautiful poem. Like to rad again and again. Enjoyed.