Before Summer Rain Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
Before Summer Rain
Suddenly, from all the green around you,
something-you don't know what-has disappeared;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,
in total silence. From the nearby wood
you hear the urgent whistling of a plover,
reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome:
so much solitude and passion come
from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour
will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide
away from us, cautiously, as though
they weren't supposed to hear what we are saying.
And reflected on the faded tapestries now;
the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long
childhood hours when you were so afraid.
The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide away from us, cautiously, as though they weren't supposed to hear what we are saying –– powerful language. Bravo, Poet! ––))
yet 'pleuvoir' is French 'rain'; so if we pronounce 'Plover' 'Plirvwuh'
Original: Vor dem Sommerregen Auf einmal ist aus allem Grün im Park man weiß nicht was, ein Etwas, fortgenommen; man fühlt ihn näher an die Fenster kommen und schweigsam sein. Inständig nur und stark ertönt aus dem Gehölz der Regenpfeifer, man denkt an einen Hieronymus: so sehr steigt irgend Einsamkeit und Eifer aus dieser einen Stimme, die der Guß erhören wird. Des Saales Wände sind mit ihren Bildern von uns fortgetreten, als dürften sie nicht hören was wir sagen. Es spiegeln die verblichenen Tapeten das ungewisse Licht von Nachmittagen, in denen man sich fürchtete als Kind.
It also contains a lot of B vitamins //xn--o80b27i69npibp5en0j.vom77.com 온라인카지노
If you look closely at these tires. Each has a different pattern. //xn--oi2ba146a24mbtbtvt.vom77.com
" The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide away from us, cautiously, as though they weren't supposed to hear what we are saying." ... Marvellous indeed... a narrative excellence... Thanks
great loving- you hear the urgent whistling of a plover, reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome: so much solitude and passion come from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour..//
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/8/2024 6:03:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Before the Summer Rain Suddenly out of all green in the park, you don't know what, a something, taken, wanes; you feel like coming closer to the panes, there, silent, bide. Just fervently and stark, out of the wood intones the piping plover, you think of some Hieronymus of hush: such yearning earnest solitude and fever, this solo sounding voice, whom waters' gush will soon hear out. Walls of the hall recoiled with all their pictures from us, pulled away, so as not to eavesdrop on us, as they might. The faded wallpaper reflects the day, the not so certain post meridian light, in which you were afraid, while still a child. (transl vzjp)
i love your translation. it is so very difficult to get the original flow and rhyme....your translation gives a much better idea and feel to the original poem. well done!