Rainer Maria Rilke
The Song Of The Beggar
I am always going from door to door,
whether in rain or heat,
and sometimes I will lay my right ear in
the palm of my right hand.
And as I speak my voice seems strange as if
it were alien to me,
for I'm not certain whose voice is crying:
mine or someone else's.
I cry for a pittance to sustain me.
The poets cry for more.
In the end I conceal my entire face
and cover both my eyes;
there it lies in my hands with all its weight
and looks as if at rest,
so no one may think I had no place where-
upon to lay my head.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
Rainer Maria Rilke's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Song Of The Beggar by Rainer Maria Rilke )
Did you read them?
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.20, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.19, Monk E. Biz
- The Puppet of His Heart, Robert Rorabeck
- Turn Your Back, Tyrone Gayle
- My name is Death, Roxanne Dubarry
- Paleolithic Mermaid, Robert Rorabeck
- For truth only, gajanan mishra
- Clouds Out To Lunch, Robert Rorabeck
- Trouble, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Those Living Deluded, Lawrence S. Pertillar