Summer Is Like Your House - Poem by gershon hepner
Summer is like your house, you know
where all things stand, though in the fall
you won’t be sure where you should go,
since autumn leaves make you recall
not hopeful colors seen in spring
whose tulips thrill a heart that thaws,
but trees that, long before it freezes,
will be denuded. Climate laws
determine how you feel. No breezes
provide relief, for it is summer,
and to the hot house you retreat,
and write a poem feeling number
inside than outside, in the heat.
Inspired by a poem from a collection of Rilke’s Book of Hours, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy, given to me by Linda after her recent visit to Englewood, NJ:
Der Sommer war so wie dein Haus,
Drin weisst du alles stehen-
Jetzt must du in dein Herz hinaus
Wie in die Ebene gehn.
Die grosse Einsamkeit beginnt,
Die Tagen warden taub,
Aus deinen Sinnen nimmt der Wind
Die Welt wie welkes Laub.
Summer was like the house you knew
where each thing stood.
Now you must go out into your heart
as onto a vast plain. Now
the immense loneliness begins.
The days go numb, the wiund
sucks the world from your senses like withered leaves.
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