Rainer Maria Rilke

(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926 / Prague / Czech Republic)

Comments about Rainer Maria Rilke

  • Rookie - 1 Points Elise Stettner (7/12/2014 8:16:00 AM)

    I am searching for the poem by M. R. Rilke in which he speaks about pushing thru solid rock.

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  • Rookie David Creasor (8/22/2013 3:10:00 PM)

    Hi guys, I am reading a Portuguese translation from a poem that I know was written by Rainer Maria Rilke, unfortunately the title is missing. Do any of you know which poem starts something like Nothing is comparable. maybe there is something

    Thanks in advance for any help

  • Rookie Valerie Harms (4/14/2012 11:43:00 AM)

    does anyone have those lines by Rilke where he is sitting in the rich darkness expectant about the light coming?

  • Rookie Mardia Parker (3/3/2010 6:30:00 AM)

    Trying to confirm a poem or quote that is attributed to Rilke: 'In love, practice only this: letting each other go. Holding on comes easily, we don't need to learn it. Practice letting go.'

  • Rookie Jay Warier (7/19/2009 11:20:00 AM)

    'Again and Again' I reread after 25 years today. Kept me entranced again. Time has not taken any of Rilke's charm away.

  • Rookie Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun (7/15/2005 8:55:00 PM)

    Rainer Maria Rilke is my favorite poet. Upon hearing his poem, 'The Panther' I became breathless, emotional and was totally captivated by it. Every time I hear or reread that poem I am totally mesmerized by his skill.

  • Rookie Justaname Parer (5/14/2005 5:34:00 AM)

    'Autumn' is such a beautiful poem in German. Its worth reading out loud even if you don't understand all the words. All you need to remember is to pronounce the German W as an English V, the German V as an English F, and the German letter ä sounds like 'eh' or 'air' (with no R sound at the end) .

Best Poem of Rainer Maria Rilke

The Panther

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

Read the full of The Panther

Narcissus

Encircled by her arms as by a shell,
she hears her being murmur,
while forever he endures
the outrage of his too pure image...

Wistfully following their example,
nature re-enters herself;
contemplating its own sap, the flower
becomes too soft, and the boulder hardens...

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